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Programming Clojure Second Edition Stuart Halloway
Digital Instant Download
Author(s): Stuart Halloway, Aaron Bedra
ISBN(s): 9781934356869, 1934356867
Edition: Second Edition
File Details: PDF, 5.03 MB
Year: 2012
Language: english
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 What Readers Are Saying About
Programming Clojure, Second Edition

Clojure is one of the most interesting languages out there right now, and the best
way of learning Clojure just got better. The second edition of Programming Clojure
adds up-to-date information, plenty of practical examples, and a ton of useful
tips on how to learn, work with, and succeed with Clojure.
➤ Ola Bini
Creator of Ioke language, developer, ThoughtWorks

Intimidated by Clojure? You won’t be after you read this book. Written in a clear
and enjoyable style, it teaches the language one small piece at a time in a very
accessible way.
➤ Tim Berglund
Founder and Principal, August Technology Group

The authors have charted the smoothest path yet to Clojure fluency with this
well-organized and easy-to-read book. They have a knack for creating simple
and effective examples that demonstrate how the language’s unique features
fit together.
➤ Chris Houser
Primary Clojure contributor and library author

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 Clojure is a beautiful, elegant, and very powerful language on the JVM. It’s
like a cathedral: you could wander into it, but you’d prefer the company of a
knowledgeable guide who can give you their perspectives, to help you grasp and
appreciate the architecture and the art. In this book you can enjoy and benefit
from the company of not one, but two seasoned developers who have the depth
of knowledge and the perspective you need.
➤ Dr. Venkat Subramaniam
Award-winning author and founder, Agile Developer, Inc.

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 Programming Clojure
Second Edition

Stuart Halloway
Aaron Bedra

The Pragmatic Bookshelf

Dallas, Texas • Raleigh, North Carolina

Download from Wow! eBook <www.wowebook.com>

 Many of the designations used by manufacturers and sellers to distinguish their products
are claimed as trademarks. Where those designations appear in this book, and The Pragmatic
Programmers, LLC was aware of a trademark claim, the designations have been printed in
initial capital letters or in all capitals. The Pragmatic Starter Kit, The Pragmatic Programmer,
Pragmatic Programming, Pragmatic Bookshelf, PragProg and the linking g device are trade-
marks of The Pragmatic Programmers, LLC.
Every precaution was taken in the preparation of this book. However, the publisher assumes
no responsibility for errors or omissions, or for damages that may result from the use of
information (including program listings) contained herein.
Our Pragmatic courses, workshops, and other products can help you and your team create
better software and have more fun. For more information, as well as the latest Pragmatic
titles, please visit us at http://pragprog.com.

The team that produced this book includes:

Michael Swaine (editor)
Potomac Indexing, LLC (indexer)
Kim Wimpsett (copyeditor)
David J Kelly (typesetter)
Janet Furlow (producer)
Juliet Benda (rights)
Ellie Callahan (support)

Copyright © 2012 The Pragmatic Programmers, LLC.

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or

transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying,
recording, or otherwise, without the prior consent of the publisher.

Printed in the United States of America.

ISBN-13: 978-1-934356-86-9
Encoded using the finest acid-free high-entropy binary digits.
Book version: P1.0—April 2012

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 In loving memory of my father and mentor,
Craig Bedra, who taught me the value of
learning by exploration and that there is no
such thing as magic.—Aaron

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 Contents
Foreword for the Second Edition . . . . . . . . xi

Foreword for the First Edition . . . . . . . . xiii

Acknowledgments . . . . . . . . . . . xv

Preface . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvii

1. Getting Started . . . . . . . . . . . . 1
1.1 Why Clojure? 2
1.2 Clojure Coding Quick Start 11
1.3 Exploring Clojure Libraries 16
1.4 Wrapping Up 20

2. Exploring Clojure . . . . . . . . . . . 21
2.1 Forms 21
2.2 Reader Macros 30
2.3 Functions 32
2.4 Vars, Bindings, and Namespaces 36
2.5 Calling Java 43
2.6 Flow Control 45
2.7 Where’s My for Loop? 48
2.8 Metadata 51
2.9 Wrapping Up 53

3. Unifying Data with Sequences . . . . . . . . 55

3.1 Everything Is a Sequence 56
3.2 Using the Sequence Library 60
3.3 Lazy and Infinite Sequences 69
3.4 Clojure Makes Java Seq-able 71
3.5 Calling Structure-Specific Functions 76
3.6 Wrapping Up 84

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 Contents • viii

4. Functional Programming . . . . . . . . . 85
4.1 Functional Programming Concepts 85
4.2 How to Be Lazy 90
4.3 Lazier Than Lazy 98
4.4 Recursion Revisited 103
4.5 Wrapping Up 112

5. State . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 113
5.1 Concurrency, Parallelism, and Locking 114
5.2 Refs and Software Transactional Memory 115
5.3 Use Atoms for Uncoordinated, Synchronous Updates 122
5.4 Use Agents for Asynchronous Updates 123
5.5 Managing Per-Thread State with Vars 127
5.6 A Clojure Snake 132
5.7 Wrapping Up 141

6. Protocols and Datatypes . . . . . . . . . 143

6.1 Programming to Abstractions 143
6.2 Interfaces 146
6.3 Protocols 147
6.4 Datatypes 151
6.5 Records 156
6.6 reify 162
6.7 Wrapping Up 163

7. Macros . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 165
7.1 When to Use Macros 165
7.2 Writing a Control Flow Macro 166
7.3 Making Macros Simpler 172
7.4 Taxonomy of Macros 177
7.5 Wrapping Up 185

8. Multimethods . . . . . . . . . . . . 187
8.1 Living Without Multimethods 187
8.2 Defining Multimethods 189
8.3 Moving Beyond Simple Dispatch 192
8.4 Creating Ad Hoc Taxonomies 194
8.5 When Should I Use Multimethods? 198
8.6 Wrapping Up 201

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 ix • Contents

9. Java Down and Dirty . . . . . . . . . . 203

9.1 Exception Handling 204
9.2 Wrestling with the Integers 207
9.3 Optimizing for Performance 209
9.4 Creating Java Classes in Clojure 214
9.5 A Real-World Example 219
9.6 Wrapping Up 226

10. Building an Application . . . . . . . . . 227

10.1 Scoring a Clojurebreaker Game 228
10.2 Testing the Scorer 231
10.3 test.generative 235
10.4 Creating an Interface 243
10.5 Deploying Your Code 248
10.6 Farewell 251

A1. Editor Support . . . . . . . . . . . . 253

A2. Bibliography . . . . . . . . . . . . 255

Index . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 257

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 Foreword for the Second Edition
A lot has changed since the first edition of the book. Yes, the language has
had some enhancements, such as protocols and records. Most significant,
though, is that Clojure has seen adoption across a wide variety of domains.
People are building start-ups, analyzing large data sets, and doing communi-
cations, financial, web, and database work in Clojure. A large and supportive
community has grown up around Clojure and, with it, a ton of libraries. These
libraries are particularly exciting, not just in the facilities they provide. The
best of them embrace the Clojure approach and mechanisms and, in doing
so, reach new levels of simplicity and interoperability.

In this second edition, Stuart and Aaron make sure to cover the language
enhancements and include a taste of what it’s like to leverage some of the
community libraries, while taking care to convey the concepts that make it
all work. The book remains an exhilarating introduction to Clojure, and I
hope it inspires you to join the community and, eventually, contribute to the
library ecosystem.

—Rich Hickey
Creator of Clojure

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 Foreword for the First Edition
We are drowning in complexity. Much of it is incidental—arising from the way
we are solving problems, instead of the problems themselves. Object-oriented
programming seems easy, but the programs it yields can often be complex
webs of interconnected mutable objects. A single method call on a single
object can cause a cascade of change throughout the object graph. Under-
standing what is going to happen when, how things got into the state they
did, and how to get them back into that state in order to try to fix a bug are
all very complex. Add concurrency to the mix, and it can quickly become
unmanageable. We throw mock objects and test suites at our programs but
too often fail to question our tools and programming models.

Functional programming offers an alternative. By emphasizing pure functions

that take and return immutable values, it makes side effects the exception
rather than the norm. This is only going to become more important as we
face increasing concurrency in multicore architectures. Clojure is designed
to make functional programming approachable and practical for commercial
software developers. It recognizes the need for running on trusted infrastruc-
ture like the JVM and supporting existing customer investments in Java
frameworks and libraries, as well as the immense practicality of doing so.

What is so thrilling about Stuart’s book is the extent to which he “gets” Clojure,
because the language is targeted to professional developers just like himself.
He clearly has enough experience of the pain points Clojure addresses, as
well as an appreciation of its pragmatic approach. This book is an enthusiastic
tour of the key features of Clojure, well grounded in practical applications,
with gentle introductions to what might be new concepts. I hope it inspires
you to write software in Clojure that you can look back at and say, “Not only
does this do the job, but it does so in a robust and simple way, and writing
it was fun too!”

—Rich Hickey
Creator of Clojure

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 Acknowledgments
Many people have contributed to what is good in this book. The problems
and errors that remain are ours alone.

Thanks to the awesome team at Relevance and Clojure/core for creating an

atmosphere in which good ideas can grow and thrive.

Thanks to the kind folks on the Clojure mailing list1 for all their help and
encouragement.

Thanks to everyone at the Pragmatic Bookshelf. Thanks especially to our

editor, Michael Swaine, for good advice delivered on a very aggressive schedule.
Thanks to Dave Thomas and Andy Hunt for creating a fun platform for writing
technical books and for betting on the passions of their authors.

Thanks to all the people who posted suggestions on the book’s errata page.2

Thanks to our technical reviewers for all your comments and helpful sugges-
tions, including Kevin Beam, Ola Bini, Sean Corfield, Fred Daoud, Steven
Huwig, Tibor Simic, David Sletten, Venkat Subramaniam, and Stefan Turalski.

A very special thanks to David Liebke who wrote the original content for
Chapter 6, Protocols and Datatypes, on page 143. He provided a fantastic guide
through the new ideas and this book would not be the same without his
contributions.

Thanks to Rich Hickey for creating the excellent Clojure language and fostering
a community around it.

Thanks to my wife, Joey, and my daughters, Hattie, Harper, and Mabel Faire.
You all make the sun rise.—Stuart

Thanks to my wife, Erin, for endless love and encouragement.—Aaron

1. http://groups.google.com/group/clojure
2. http://www.pragprog.com/titles/shcloj2/errata

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 Preface
Clojure is a dynamic programming language for the Java Virtual Machine
(JVM), with a compelling combination of features:

• Clojure is elegant. Clojure’s clean, careful design lets you write programs
that get right to the essence of a problem, without a lot of clutter and
ceremony.

• Clojure is Lisp reloaded. Clojure has the power inherent in Lisp but is not
constrained by the history of Lisp.

• Clojure is a functional language. Data structures are immutable, and most

functions are free from side effects. This makes it easier to write correct
programs and to compose large programs from smaller ones.

• Clojure simplifies concurrent programming. Many languages build a con-

currency model around locking, which is difficult to use correctly. Clojure
provides several alternatives to locking: software transactional memory,
agents, atoms, and dynamic variables.

• Clojure embraces Java. Calling from Clojure to Java is direct and fast,
with no translation layer.

• Unlike many popular dynamic languages, Clojure is fast. Clojure is written

to take advantage of the optimizations possible on modern JVMs.

Many other languages cover some of the features described in the previous
list. Of all these languages, Clojure stands out. The individual features listed
earlier are powerful and interesting. Their clean synergy in Clojure is com-
pelling. We will cover all these features and more in Chapter 1, Getting Started,
on page 1.

Who This Book Is For

Clojure is a powerful, general-purpose programming language. As such, this

book is for experienced programmers looking for power and elegance. This

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 xviii • Preface

book will be useful for anyone with experience in a modern programming

language such as C#, Java, Python, or Ruby.

Clojure is built on top of the Java Virtual Machine, and it is fast. This book
will be of particular interest to Java programmers who want the expressiveness
of a dynamic language without compromising on performance.

Clojure is helping to redefine what features belong in a general-purpose lan-

guage. If you program in Lisp, use a functional language such as Haskell, or
write explicitly concurrent programs, you will enjoy Clojure. Clojure combines
ideas from Lisp, functional programming, and concurrent programming and
makes them more approachable to programmers seeing these ideas for the
first time.

Clojure is part of a larger phenomenon. Languages such as Erlang, F#,

Haskell, and Scala have garnered attention recently for their support of
functional programming or their concurrency model. Enthusiasts of these
languages will find much common ground with Clojure.

What Is in This Book

Chapter 1, Getting Started, on page 1 demonstrates Clojure’s elegance as a

general-purpose language, plus the functional style and concurrency model
that make Clojure unique. It also walks you through installing Clojure and
developing code interactively at the REPL.

Chapter 2, Exploring Clojure, on page 21 is a breadth-first overview of all of

Clojure’s core constructs. After this chapter, you will be able to read most
day-to-day Clojure code.

The next two chapters cover functional programming. Chapter 3, Unifying

Data with Sequences, on page 55 shows how all data can be unified under
the powerful sequence metaphor.

Chapter 4, Functional Programming, on page 85 shows you how to write

functional code in the same style used by the sequence library.

Chapter 5, State, on page 113 delves into Clojure’s concurrency model. Clojure
provides four powerful models for dealing with concurrency, plus all of the
goodness of Java’s concurrency libraries.

Chapter 6, Protocols and Datatypes, on page 143 walks through records, types,
and protocols in Clojure. These concepts were introduced in Clojure 1.2.0
and enhanced in 1.3.0.

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 How to Read This Book • xix

Chapter 7, Macros, on page 165 shows off Lisp’s signature feature. Macros
take advantage of the fact that Clojure code is data to provide metaprogram-
ming abilities that are difficult or impossible in anything but a Lisp.

Chapter 8, Multimethods, on page 187 covers one of Clojure’s answers to

polymorphism. Polymorphism usually means “take the class of the first
argument and dispatch a method based on that.” Clojure’s multimethods let
you choose any function of all the arguments and dispatch based on that.

Chapter 9, Java Down and Dirty, on page 203 shows you how to call Java from
Clojure and call Clojure from Java. You will see how to take Clojure straight
to the metal and get Java-level performance.

Finally, Chapter 10, Building an Application, on page 227 provides a view into
a complete Clojure workflow. You will build an application from scratch,
working through solving the various parts to a problem and thinking about
simplicity and quality. You will use a set of helpful Clojure libraries to produce
and deploy a web application.

Appendix 1, Editor Support, on page 253 lists editor support options for Clojure,
with links to setup instructions for each.

How to Read This Book

All readers should begin by reading the first two chapters in order. Pay par-
ticular attention to Section 1.1, Why Clojure?, on page 2, which provides an
overview of Clojure’s advantages.

Experiment continuously. Clojure provides an interactive environment where

you can get immediate feedback; see Using the REPL, on page 12 for more
information.

After you read the first two chapters, skip around as you like. But read
Chapter 3, Unifying Data with Sequences, on page 55 before you read Chapter
5, State, on page 113. These chapters lead you from Clojure’s immutable data
structures to a powerful model for writing correct concurrency programs.

As you make the move to longer code examples in the later chapters, make
sure you use an editor that provides Clojure indentation for you. Appendix
1, Editor Support, on page 253 will point you to common editor options. If you
can, try to use an editor that supports parentheses balancing, such as Emacs’
paredit mode or the CounterClockWise plug-in for eclipse. This feature will
be a huge help as you are learning to program in Clojure.

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Random documents with unrelated
content Scribd suggests to you:
fought at Lepanto, and Antonio Cavanilles, the eminent historian
before mentioned. Seated behind the academicians were the most
illustrious ladies of Spain, all appropriately attired in mourning
dress.

The Archbishop of Seville celebrated high mass, the different parts

of which were accompanied with music as old as the days of
Cervantes himself. The distinguished composer, Don Francisco
Asenjo Barbieri, had sought these pieces out with much trouble,
some of them having for a long time been only heard in the Sistine
chapel at Rome. We subjoin the openings of some of these, with
the authors and dates.

Regem cui omnia vivunt (the king by whom all things live) was
composed by Don Melchior Robledo, chapel master in Saragossa in
1569, the same year when Cervantes' little collection of elegiac
poems on Queen Isabel appeared.

Domine in furore tuo (Lord (rebuke) me not in thy fury) was the
composition of Don Andres Lorente, organist in Alcala de Henares,
Cervantes' birthplace. He himself probably heard it sung there in his
youth.

Versa est in luctum cithara mea (my harp has changed to

sorrow) was composed for the funeral of Philip II. by Don Alfonso
Lobo.

Libera me (deliver me), the composition of Don Matias Romero,

Chapel Master to Philip III., dates from about the death of
Cervantes.

Don Francisco de Paula Benavides, the young bishop of Siguenza,

preached the sermon. Taking his text from St. Paul, "Being dead he
still speaketh through faith," he proceeded with the panegyric of
the great-souled poet and soldier, and of all the illustrious dead
who have honourcd Spain by their writings. He did not neglect to
interest the nuns, who were listening with all their might behind
their lattices. Their order had been instrumental in restoring the
brave Saavedra to his country, and to their exertions Spain and the
world were in part indebted for the Don Quixote and the Exemplary
Novels. They possessed the remains of the poet in their house, and
thus bound to his memory they must not omit the care of his
salvation to their prayers. The delivery of the discourse, according
to M. Latour, was marked with a noble simplicity, and a manner
combining sweetness with vigour.

Next morning he returned to the convent, hoping to be gratified

with the sight of Cervantes' tomb. Alas! he learned that when the
remains were transferred from the old house, sufficient attention
was not paid to keep them apart from those of others who were
removed along with them. So, though it is morally certain that the
present convent of the Trinitarians guards all that remains of the
body, once so full of life and active energy, they are now
undistinguishable from the relics of the nameless individuals who
had received interment in the same building.

The Modern Novel:

Donna Caecelia De Faber.

We are not to imagine Spain insensible to the merits of her living

gifted sons and daughters, and ever employed in shedding tears
over the tombs of her Cervantes, her Lope de Vega, or her
Mendoza. No. She possesses living writers whose names are not
only known from Andaluçia to Biscay, but are even spoken of in
Paris salons. The most distinguished among these is the lady who
chooses to style herself Fernan Caballero, her real name being
Caecilia de Faber, her birthplace Alorges in Switzerland, and her
father, M. Bohl de Faber, a Hamburgh merchant, and consul for that
city at Cadiz.
She has been married more than once, and thus enabled to
combine experience with natural ability in her pictures of life and
manners. Through the favor of the queen she holds apartments in
the Alcazar of Seville, and the splendid old Moorish city could not
possess a writer better qualified to paint the manners of the little-
doing, much-enjoying people of that southern paradise, Andalulçia,
and the delights of the happy climate, where life is not only
supportable, but enjoyable at very small expense.

Besides happily seizing and vividly sketching what takes place

among the aristocracy of Seville in their Patios [Footnote 4] and
Tertulias (reunions in their salons), this authoress has made
herself thoroughly acquainted with the circumstances and
characters and peculiar customs of the country laborers and
shepherds. Melodramatic situations abound in some of them, and
perhaps these are more relished by her Spanish readers than
others whose chief merit consists in truthful and picturesque
tableaux of the order of things among which they are placed, and
which consequently possesses no novelty for them. We can readily
conceive how French and English students of her novels and
romances would prefer this latter class for their entertainment. Who
would not rather listen to a couple of Andaluçian peasants
discussing the clime and people of Britain than to some terrible,
exciting though undignified, domestic tragedy? (A. is dissuading B.
from making the voyage to Britain.)

"A. The earth is there covered with so deep a crust of snow

that people are buried in it.

"B. Most Blessed Mary! But they are quiet folk, and do not carry
stilettoes.

"A. They have no olives, no gaspacho, [Footnote 5] and must

put up with black bread, potatoes, and milk.

"B. Much good may it do them.

 [Footnote 4: The Patios are the interior flagged courts
surrounded by colonnades from the roof of which lamps
are suspended. In the centre of the court is a fountain
surrounded by shrubs in fruit or flower. Seated on sofas
in the corridor, or on carpets near the fountain, the
princely owners enjoy an elysium during hot weather.]

[Footnote 5: Soup made up of olive oil, vinegar, spices,

etc.]

"A. The worst is, there are neither monks nor nuns there; the
churches are few, and the walls of them as bare as if they were
hospitals; no private chapels, no altars, no crucifixion.

"B. Oh, my sun, my white bread, my church, my Maria

Santissima, my delightful land, my Dios Sacramentado! How
could I think to change you for that land of snow, of black
bread, of bare-walled churches, of heretics? Horrible!"

Fernan Caballero enters with warm-hearted sympathy into the

pleasures and troubles of her country people. Few could read
without interest her sketch of the peasants returning at evening
from their work. We fancy Sancho Panza and a neighbor coming
home to meet the greeting of Tereza and his children, himself
mounted on Dapple, while the little foal frolics about, unconscious
of its own future life of labor. Sancho carries a basket of fruit and
vegetables covered with the sappy maize stalks, which will furnish a
delightful supper to the patient burra. Sancho's neighbor is riding
beside him, and you will hear in a quarter of an hour of their
conversation more proverbs than John Smith and Tom Brown would
quote in seven years. The burras quicken their pace as they
approach the village, for the children of both men are running to
meet them, while their wives are looking out for them from the
porches of their doors. Sancho dismounts and sets his younger
child on Dapple, while his elder frolics about her and makes free
with her ears. Sancho's neighbor gets his youngest into his lap,
while one of the elder boys takes the halter and the other gambols
about with the trusty house dog, asses and dog being much better
treated than if their lot lay in Berkshire or Donegal.

With their innumerable rhymed proverbs, their chatty propensities,

their happy clime, fine country, facility of procuring a livelihood, few
wants, and lively and happy temperaments, the Andaluçian
peasants afford suitable subjects to Fernan Caballero's pencil. They
see in the many natural advantages they possess, the goodness of
God and the favors of the saints; and their pious legends, in
connection with every object round them, are innumerable. "Toads
and serpents are useful in absorbing the poisonous exhalations of
the earth; the serpent attempted to bite the Holy Infant on the
journey into Egypt, so Saint Joseph appointed him to creep on his
belly thenceforth. Some trees have the privilege of permanent
foliage because they sheltered the HOLY FAMILY on the same
journey. The Blessed Virgin hung the clothes of the Infant Jesus on
a rosemary bush to dry, so its sweetest perfume and brightest
blossoms are reserved for Friday. The swallow plucked some of the
thorns out of the Saviour's crown, therefore he is a favorite bird
with all Christians, while the owl is obliged to keep his eyes shut
and whimper out, 'cruz, cruz,' because he irreverently stared at
our suffering Lord on the cross. The hedgehog should be well
treated, because he presented to the Blessed Virgin some sweet
apples on the tips of his prickles, while the earwig is deservedly
hated for boring his way into, and effectually spoiling the nicest of
them." Most of these poetically develop fancies are or were familiar
with the Roman Catholic peasantry of Ireland, and probably
amongst the populace of moat continental countries.

Perhaps the most powerful of our authoress's stories is La Gaviota

(the sea-gull), giving the career of a selfish, ill-disposed country
girl, gifted with some beauty and a fine voice. She obtains a gentle
German doctor for husband, is patronized by a duke, trained for the
office of a prima donna, becomes fascinated by a bull fighter,
proves false to her estimable husband, and ends badly of course.
Devout and moral as the authoress undoubtedly is, she does not
avoid strong and exciting situations no more than Mrs. Harriet
Beecher Stowe or Mrs. Oliphant. Such is the scene where the
betrayed husband sees her seated beside the bullfighter among his
unedifying associates, and that other of the death of her paramour
by a furious animal in the arena before her eyes, and these are
matched by passages in the Alvareda Family.[Footnote 6] This
story, which is entirely occupied with country folk, and incidents of
the war in Buonaparte's time, and scenes of brigandage, is next to
La Gaviota in power. The match-making scene between the
garrulous and saving Pedro and his relative that is to be, the Tia
Maria, fully as provident as himself, might have happened in a
country farmhouse in Wexford or Carlow, and would have been
described by Banim or Griffin or Carleton, nearly in the same terms.

[Footnote 6: A translation of this story was given in The

Catholic World of last year, as Perico the Sad; or, The
Alvareda Family.]

The Andalusians are as partial to bantering each other as the

natives of Kilcullen or Bantry, but all is taken in good humor.

In reading the country business in this and others of our

authoress's tales we have been forcibly reminded of corresponding
pictures so truthfully painted in Adam Bede. We could scarcely
fancy such a piece of extravagance as the following to be uttered
by a Spanish lady, till assured of the fact by Fernan Caballero.
Casta wishes to induce her elderly lover, Don Judas Taddeo Barbo,
to cease his persecutions. He does not read, and entertains feelings
of repugnance to literary ladies in general; so she takes him into
her confidence.

"'Yes, yes I am a poet, but do not mention it, I beg. Some of

my works are printed, but I have put the names of my friends
to them. Martinez de la Rosa's poems are mine, not his. I have
 also tried my hand on theatrical pieces. The Consolations of a
Prisoner, attributed to the Duke de Rivas, is my composition.'

"'Who would have suspected a lady, so young, so beautiful, so

womanly, so attractive? Why, a writing woman ought to be old,
ugly, and slovenly—a man-woman!'

"'All prejudices, Don Judas. Have you read my Tell?'

"'Miguel Tell, the Treasurer? No. I never read; it injures my

sight.'

"'Well I must read an extract from my great historical work on

William Tell, not Miguel the Treasurer.' (Here poor Don Judas
began to meditate an escape, the very thing the lady wished.)

"'William Tell, my hero, was a native of Scotland who refused to

bow down to the beaver hat of the English General, Malbrun,
set up on a high pole. Out of this circumstance arose the thirty
years' war, at the end of which Tell was proclaimed King of
England under the title of William the Conqueror. He brought
disgrace on his royal name by causing his wife, the beautiful
Anne Boleyn, to be beheaded. Struck with remorse he sent his
son Richard Lion-heart on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. On his
return he was imprisoned for his great admiration of Luther,
Calvin, Voltaire, and Rousseau, members of the Revolutionary
Directory which put the pious King Louis XIV. to death. About
that time Don Pedro the Cruel established the inquisition in
Spain to prevent such proceedings in his kingdom, and thus he
obtained his surname'"

Poor Don Judas was terrified by the erudition of the cunning lady,
who thus got rid of him.

The collected works of this lady have been printed at the expense
of the queen. It is only seventeen or eighteen years since she
began to write, and, if we can trust the accuracy of foreign
biographers, she is now in her seventieth year. Two volumes of
selections from her works entitled The Castle and Cottage in Spain,
have appeared in an English dress.

Rustic Tales:
Don Antonio De Trueba.

The writer next to be noticed, by birth a Biscayan peasant, is now

or was lately a sub-editor of a newspaper. Don Antonio de Trueba y
la Quintana was born 24th December, 1821. In the preface to one
of his works he presents this picture of his birthplace and his early
life.

"On the slope of one of the mountains of Biscay stand four

white houses nearly hidden in a wood of walnut and chestnut
trees, and which cannot be seen at any distance till winter has
deprived the trees of their foliage. There I passed the first
fifteen years of my life.

"In the valley is a church whose spire pierces the surrounding

canopy of foliage, and is seen above the chestnut and ash
trees. In this church they celebrate two masses, one at the
rising of the sun, the other two hours afterward.

"We, the young boys of the hamlet rose every Sunday with the
song of the birds, and went down to the early mass, singing
and jumping over the bushes. The elders of the families
attended the later devotions. While the fathers and grandfathers
were so occupied, I took my seat under a cherry tree opposite
the door, and had a full view of the entire vale till it approached
the shore. I was soon joined by four or five young girls with
cheeks as blooming as the cherries which hung over our beads,
or the red ribbons which bound the long braids of their hair.
They would request me to make some verses for them to sing
in the evening to the accompaniment of the basque tambourine,
 when the young would be dancing, and the aged looking on in
sympathy with their enjoyment."

Don Antonio was already a poet, though his material sources of

information and inspiration were very easily counted. His library
consisted of the Fueros (Customs) of Biscay, Samanego's Fables,
Don Quixote, a book of ballads, and two or three volumes of the
Lives of the Saints. At fifteen years of age (1836), the Carlist cause
gathering the youth of Biscay to its side, Antonio's parents not
being enthusiastic partisans of that party, sent their son to a distant
relative in Madrid, who could do nothing better for the future poet
and novelist than employ him in his hardware shop to take down
door-hinges, pokers, and frying-pans for his customers.

For ten tedious years did our poet in embryo do the duty of a
shopman by day, treat himself the to a book when be could, and
spend in study great part of the time that should be given to sleep.
Bad business or failure obliged him at the end of the time
mentioned to look out for other occupation, and since that time he
has been connected with journalism, the evenings still being
devoted to poetry and romance.

The ordinary vehicle in which the nameless poets of Spain utter

their thoughts to the people is the quatrain, in which the second
and fourth lines rhyme after a fashion, the accented vowels
corresponding without exception, the consonants when it pleases
Apollo. This is what they call the Romance, and in which Trueba
has endeavored to improve the taste of the people by a genuine
poetic feeling, and perfection in the structure of the verse.
But our Biscayan thought a poet's life incomplete without the
sympathy which only a loving and intelligent wife can afford. So he
incurred the expense of a household, as well as gave support to his
aged parents. Along with laboring at the public press and writing
and publishing Los Cantares, he found time to compose his Rose-
colored Tales, all concerned with the ordinary life of the country in
which his boyhood was passed, and all seen through that softly
colored magic medium through which mature age loves to look
back to the period of careless hopeful youth. These stories are
called The Resurrection of the Soul, The Stepmother, From our
Country to Heaven. The Judas of the House, and Juan Palamo. All
end happily, all are imbued with the purest morality, and breathe an
atmosphere in which live the best feelings of our nature.

While writing the dedication of them to his wife, he was enlivened

by the anticipation of a visit they would shortly make to his natal
village.

"While I write this, the most cherished wish of my life is about

to be gratified. Before the July sun withers up the flowers, the
breezes and the flowers of my native hills shall cool our
foreheads, and perfume our hair. The venerable man who
honors himself and thee in calling thee his daughter, is now
going from house to house in the village, and telling the
companions of my boyhood, while tears of joy find their way
down his check, 'My children are coming; my son is about
revisiting his native valleys as lovingly as he bade them adieu
twenty years ago.'

"And our father and our brothers are thinking on us every

moment, and doing all in their humble means to beautify and
cheer the apartments destined for us. Every time they come to
the windows, they expect to see my form on the hillock where
they caught the last site of me seventeen years ago."
Alas! what disappointments wait on such pleasant anticipations!
Paying a tardy visit to the scenes so lovingly and pleasurably
remembered, the careworn elderly man finds dear old houses
levelled; new, raw ones reared on their site; old paths and ways
deserted, and new roads laid down; new and uninteresting topics
filling up conversation, the once fresh and fair romantic boys and
girls now common-place husbands and wives, except such as have
been removed by death or change of residence. His former
comrades, youths and maids once buoyant with bright hopes, are
now gray-haired and wrinkled, or distressed, or departed, and of
the revered and loved old people of long ago not one has been left
to bid him welcome. There are now no ties to detain him in his
long regretted native place; he hastens back to his ordinary
colorless occupation and cares, rendered agreeable or tolerable by
habit, and wishes he had not gone on that sorrowful journey.

In the greater part of these tales figures the Indian, that is, one
who has spent some time in Mexico or the West Indies, and returns
to cheer or disturb the former companions of his early life. The
narratives are made up of simple village annals, loves and
jealousies, injustices and their punishments, generous deeds and
their recompenses, constancy sharply tried and victorious, unions at
the threshing floors, Sunday morning devotions, Sunday evening
recreations, troubles of good housewives with their play-loving little
boys, and all the worries and comforts and joys and griefs that
attend on the lives of those whose lot is to cultivate the earth, the
curé always filling the office of the good fairy in household tales.

Satire:
Don Jose Gonzalez De Tejada.

Don José Gonzalez de Tejada may be taken as the representative

man of the living Spanish satirists. Few looking on the steady, easy-
going, fat, and florid young man with good-nature playing about
the corners of his mouth, would suspect the keen spirit of satire
which inspires his verses. Making use of the romance form before
explained, he celebrated in the public papers the late triumphs of
his country over the Moors, and these verses were in every one's
mouth. In his satires he never condescends to personalities. He
lashes selfishness, rage for wealth, worldliness, lack of patriotism,
etc. He calls his collection "Anacreontic Poems of the latest
Fashion," but they have nothing of the genuine Anacreontics but
the form. The classic student, or even the reader of Moore's
translation, recollects the bibulous old poet's direction to the painter
about his mistress's portrait. Here is the Spanish equivalent:

"Figure to me, O photographer of my soul! the beauty who

holds me in thrall.

"As to countenance, let her be dark or fair, to me it's all the

same.

"But let sparkling diamonds give lustre to her tresses, and two
golden lamps hang from her ears.

"Let her neck be dark, or possess the whiteness of alabaster,

but for decency's sake cover it with pearls or sapphires.

"Let her graceful form be shrouded with rich valuable stuffs. A

rich binding always enhances the value of books.

"While she rolls along in her calèche my attention is occupied

with her rich liveries and the cost of the equipage.

"Happy he who, prancing along by the carriage, or seated by

her side, cigar in mouth, can exclaim, 'All that surrounds me is
mine!'

"Paint her for me in ball costume, at the mass, or the retiro,

ever richly dressed, ever surrounded by opulent charms.

"But alas! her greatest charms you cannot see to portray—her

father's crowns! On these is my heart fixed."
Don José is somewhat old fashioned in his notions. He does not
attribute all the qualities of and overruling Providence to the mere
progress of science and the additions to our corporal conveniences.
Here is his vision of the origin of printing:

"Turning the earth into a sponge with his tears, man presented
himself all dreeping at the throne of Jupiter.

"And cried, 'Good evening, O powerful god, maker of stars, of

worlds, and of domestic fowl!

"Thou createdst us one day from nothing mixed with a little

mud; thou hast bestowed on us genius enveloped in a soft
covering of flesh.

"'The world is a cage, and each of us a parrot climbing and

balancing himself over his neighbor's head.

.....

"'Thou hast bestowed us ears which to the deaf are a mere

ornament, and a tongue, best gift of all.

"'Placed between the teeth she gives them to understand that

unless she lies, they can have nothing to chew.

"'But alas! in our time she is incapable to express all that the
fruitful brain conceives and brings forth.

"'Lengthen it then the third of a perch, or give it for aid an

additional organ.

"'Juppy made a grimace, and the affrighted hills sunk, and the
poles trembled.

"'Well,' said the deity, always prodigal of gifts, 'I shall convert
into tongues sundry vile things of this lower world.
 "'Of old shirts, of disgusting rags, I shall make gay clothes for
the press, flesh and blood for the daily paper.

"'In the feathered garb of the goose are cannons sufficient to

win treasures.

"'Let your arms cease to brandish the war-like steel, and turn
inert and fat bodies of men into sieves.

"'Iron fashioned into slender tongues which sing along the

paper, shall there engrave the conceptions of genius.

"'And in order that you may attain the steepest summits, I shall
furnish your heads with pride and envy in abundance.

"'Advance, throw shame behind, flatter the proud, copy, deride,

calumniate, and be sure to burn incense in your own honor.

"'I have spoken.' And he added, rubbing his chin, 'Henceforth

you are a man; hitherto you were but an ape.'"

History:
Don Antonio Cavanilles.

Don Antonio Cavanilles, an advocate and member or the Academy,

has distinguished himself by his yet unfinished history of Spain, an
interesting narrative, evincing the most patient research, and
attractive from the adjuncts of customs and phases of the different
eras, and personal traits of the historical personages. Don Modesto
Lafuente is engaged on another history of the same country. Don
Antonio belongs to the school of Livy and Herodotus, Don Modesto
writes in the spirit and with the pen of a Manchester radical.

The Drama:
Don Adelardo Lopez De Ayala.
Zealous as the first historian for the preservation of the heroic and
unselfish character of the genuine Hidalgo, Don Adelardo Lopez de
Ayala writes his drama of "So Much per Cent," in which he excites
unmeasured contempt for the greed of gold, and the rage of
speculation, whose visit to the old soil of chivalry the author
deprecates with all his might.

Don Gaspar Bono Serrano, a brave and devout military chaplain,

once attending the wounded in Don Carlos's camp, and an
Arragonese by birth, has given the lie to the public impression that
no poet is born outside of Castile and Andalulçia.

While it must be owned with regret that pestilent French novels

have found their way in abundance across the Pyrenees, the native
literature of Spain, with scarce an exception, maintains its ancient
prestige for Christian morality. Long may the word continue to be
said!

Want of space prevents any notice of the feuilleton and the

drama of Spain at the present day, and other literary topics
interesting the Spanish capital. An instance of the interest taken in
sound fictional literature in high quarters is furnished by the
publication of the complete collected novels of Fernan Caballero,
and of Antonio Trueba at the expense of the Queen. Meanwhile
Fernan, or rather Doña Caecilia, (née) de Faber, dwells in the Royal
Alcazar of Seville in apartments granted by her queen, employs
herself writing an educational work for the junior portion of the
royal family, and enjoys an extensive view from her windows over
the old Moorish buildings, the Guadalquiver, and the charming
Andaluçian landscape through which it winds.
 Original.

The Godfrey Family; or,

Questions Of The Day

Chapter XXVIII.

With a woman's tact, Adelaide set to work to provide some

powerful attraction for her father; and luckily the proposed
formation of a scientific society brought many men of his own way
of thinking to town just then: and among them Mr. Spence, and a
lord or two of "promotion of knowledge" celebrity. Having managed
thoroughly to interest her father in this society, Adelaide told him
that sea-air would benefit Hester's health, that she intended to go
with her for a few weeks to try it, that meantime Mr. Spence would
keep him company in the house, which Lucy Fairfield would take
charge of. To this Mr. Godfrey, though somewhat taken by surprise,
assented: he had already, at Adelaide's request, invited Mr. Spence
to spend a few weeks with him; but that gentleman was not
exactly well pleased to find on his arrival that the ladies were
already preparing for departure. He had intended to win a bride
during his visit, thinking that even if Hester proved obdurate, he
might have a chance with the fair young widow. But the carriage
was already at the door. "I shall send the carriage back, father, in a
day or two;" said Adelaide. "I do not care to have my horses at a
livery stable; Hester and I are going to rusticate, ride donkeys,
climb hills, and throw pebbles into the sea: we take only Norah
with us, and you will have to see that the carriage horses are duly
exercised every day." She waved her hand in adieu, giving no time
for reply. The gentlemen could only bow their assent. Mr. Godfrey
was too well acquainted with Adelaide's imperious temperament to
think of disputing her commands; he had long learned to respect
even her eccentricities. Was she not a duchess?

The journey went on well enough the first day, but on the second,
Adelaide surprised her retinue by sending them back with the
carriage, telling them she would proceed onward with a hired
vehicle. The coachman and footman looked as if they would like to
remonstrate, but it had been proved to be somewhat dangerous to
argue with this very positive lady, accustomed to obey no will
except her own. They submitted in silence, therefore, though much
against their inclination. "Now," said Adelaide, when they had
departed, "we can enjoy the luxury of being ourselves,
unencumbered by state and trappings. Hester, do you think you can
teach Norah to call me plain 'ma'am,' for a little while, till we return
home? I am again Adelaide Godfrey, that name will tell nothing and
will enable us to act as we like, observed by any."

It was not found difficult to initiate Norah into the idea that the
great duchess wanted to lay aside her dignity for a while, for the
truth was Norah's difficulty had ever been to get herself to say
"your grace," on requisite occasions. These preliminaries settled,
the ladies proceeded on their journey, took ready furnished
lodgings in H----, and prepared to lead the quiet life of the middle
classes of society when out on a "bathing for health" excursion.

The location of the Catholic chapel was soon examined, the priest's
house communicating with it. In neat straw bonnets trimmed with
white, and plain muslin dresses, Adelaide and Hester assisted at
the daily mass. In the priest they recognized at once the Abbé
Martigni, and in the noble-featured youth who knelt by his side
Adelaide traced the likeness, now first becoming dear to her, of her
late husband. A day or two elapsed ere she could summon courage
to call at the house. At length the moment arrived for the looked-
for visit; the sisters had, however, scarcely gained entrance to the
outer court, when their attention was attracted by loud sobs from a
little boy and girl, who stood weeping as if their hearts would
break. The abbé was speaking to the woman with whom they
came; he then turned to the children, and patting them on the
heads, said tenderly: "I will come directly, my poor children." He
turned hastily away without receiving his visitors. Adelaide took the
boy's hand kindly. "What is the matter?" she asked. The boy could
not speak for weeping, but the woman answered: "His mother, my
lady, poor Biddy, shure, she has fallen from her seat, on to the
stone pavement, while she was cleaning the windows of a large
house in Queen street, and they say she must die."

Adelaide whispered, "take me to your mother;" the boy looked at

the woman; "aye," said she, "do you and Sissy go home with the
ladies, I will wait to show his reverence the way." Led by Adelaide
and Hester, the girl and boy threaded back the way to their
wretched home, and entered it some time before the priest arrived.
In one of those dreary places of large cities called a "blind alley"—
where the houses nearly meet in the upper stories, and where the
sunshine of heaven is excluded; surrounded by bad smells, and the
very atmosphere of which makes us shrink and shudder as we
enter the damp and dirty houses, the inhabitants of which are for
the most part very dirty also—here in a cellar, darker even than its
neighbors, lay a poor widow with four children weeping around her.
The woman was barely sensible; her brain and spine were injured;
the doctor had said she could not live till night; two women,
neighbors, were with her trying "to get sense out of her," as they
said. It was the first time the sisters had ever witnessed such a
scene. The very walls were covered with dirt; the floor was partly
brick, and where these were broken away, the foot slipped into
holes of the bare earth; the windows were so covered with dust
and cobwebs it was difficult to find out what they were made of.
On a low pallet, on a dirty straw-bed, with no blankets, no sheets,
naught save one dirty coverlet, lay a figure with long, dark, lank
hair, almost covering her face and person. Adelaide approached,
but the woman heeded her not; her large dark eyes were set: she
moaned from time to time, but spoke not. "Where do you feel
pain?" kindly inquired the lady. "Oh I bless you, my lady, she
cannot spake," said one of the women. "The Lord be praised, here
comes his reverence," said the other. "May the sweet Jesus lend
her her senses a few minutes, to let her spake to the priest!" The
abbé entered; he looked very grave; he sat down on the bed (there
was no other seat in the room) to examine the pulse and breathing
of the patient. He spoke to her. She answered not. "Try to rouse
her," he said to the women. They called to her: "Biddy, dear, shure
here's his reverence. Biddy, won't you spake to the priest?" She
continued unconscious. "Have you a smelling-bottle?" he said to
Adelaide. "We must bring her to consciousness, I wish I had some
eau-de Cologne." "I will fetch you some," laid Adelaide.

The sisters went out and purchased the eau-de-Cologne, also

bread and refreshments for the children; and then in that damp,
unwholesome den, the duchess watched long hours by the side of
the unfortunate woman. She was unattended too, for Hester had
grown faint, and Adelaide had insisted on her going home, and the
abbé had left for a while. At length consciousness returned, and
the poor mother opened her eyes again. The priest was
immediately sent for, as he had desired to be, and the first words
she whispered betrayed a consciousness of his presence, for they
were: "Bring me my God! O my sweet Jesus, come!" The room was
cleared for a few moments. Biddy had been a faithful member of
the church—she was a monthly communicant, and the last
sacraments brought unspeakable consolation to her. She had
remained silent and in prayer for some time. A change came over
her, and she motioned the father to come near to her. "I am dying,
father, and but for one thought it were sweet to die. My children—
oh! my children! I have struggled—father, you know I have
struggled to keep them in the true faith, to make them love Jesus
and Mary; and now, must they go to the scoffers? must they hear
their faith laughed at? O my God! O my Jesus! have pity on my
children! Mary, my mother, send a mother to my children. Let me
come to thee in love and not in fear. O mother of God, pity my
children!" Agony caused the drops to stand on the poor woman's
brow; tears streamed down her cheeks; her hands were clasped
convulsively together; it was as though the soul were anxious to
depart, but delayed in order to plead with heaven in favor of the
dear little ones it left behind. There was a solemn pause within that
dreary chamber. The dim candle seemed to take a bright unearthly
light. The spirits of all were hushed in awe. Surely angels were
hovering near, whispering to the mother that her prayer was heard,
for a smile broke over the features, the hands unclenched
themselves, peace overshadowed the room; and then, as if moved
by a power she could not withstand, Adelaide came forward and
knelt down in solemnity by the dying woman's side. Taking within
her own that now almost lifeless hand, she said: "I promise you,
my sister, before God and this holy priest, that I will take care of
your children while I live, and that they shall be carefully brought
up in the holy Catholic Faith." The woman's eyes were no longer
sensible to sight, but her spirit beard the promise. "I thank thee, O
my God!" she uttered. Shortly after a ray of indescribable rapture
lighted up her features, "Jesus, Mary, I come!" she said; and the
soul had flown to its home in the bright, bright realms of
everlasting bliss.

·····

"This must be a pauper's funeral," said Adelaide, as she rose from

her knees. "Father, I am a stranger here; will you appoint some one
to see to it?" She placed her purse in his hand as she spoke. The
father looked at her. "Surely I have seen you before," he said;
"your face is familiar to me, but I cannot remember where we
met." Adelaide blushed. "I will see you after the funeral," she said;
"meanwhile, may I ask you to point out some woman to go home
with me, and take charge of these children? I will pay her well for
her trouble." The abbé sent for a woman; a coach was called, and
Adelaide took the poor children to her lodgings. Here they were
fed, washed, clothed in neat mourning, and made ready to do the
last sad honors to their mother's remains.
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