and that of
Gotthold Ephraim Lessing; who, it will be remembered, sometimes
diverted himself with the composition of light poetical pieces, such
as his famous song, beginning "Gestern, Brueder, koennt ihr's glauben?"

The first sonnet is on Haendel, the second on Glueck, the third on
Haydn, the fourth on _Don Juan_, and the fifth on _Figaro_.

The following attempt at a translation of the fourth sonnet may serve
to give some idea of how far the world-renowned philosopher and
skeptic has succeeded in his effort to assume the anomalous _role_ of
a sonneteer:

DON JUAN.

How joyously life's fountains here are flowing!
In crystal cups the purple flood is foaming;
Through dusky myrtle-groves are lovers roaming,
The dance begins in halls all bright and glowing.
Be watchful, though! Here treachery is hiding.
Wild passion naught for truth or ruth is caring:
As hawks do doves, mild innocence 'tis tearing,
And human vengeance lightly is deriding.
But now, once more alive, the slain appear!
They speak, with awful voice, the words of doom:
Death his cold hand is silently extending.
Now sinks the daring mood in ghastly fear.
The golden dream of life dissolves in gloom;
The silent grave brings on the bright joy's ending.

It is very hard, if not impossible, to render into any other language
the true spirit of a German poem. But in the original this sonnet is
far above mediocrity. It idealizes the opera of _Don Juan_ very
artistically, and displays a combination of force with harmony and
grace which gives the impression, in connection with the other
sonnets, that if Strauss had devoted his mental energy to poetry
alone, he would not have taken a low rank among the poets of Germany.

W.W.C.

LITERATURE OF THE DAY.

The Life of Thomas Fuller, D.D., with Notices of his Books,
his Kinsmen and his Friends. By John Eglinton Bailey. London:
Pickering.

By no means to the credit of the nineteenth century, it is hardly
prudent, as yet, to speak to the general public about Thomas Fuller
without formally introducing him. Coleridge and Southey and Lamb were,
to be sure, familiar with his writings, and prized them extremely. But
they did the same by the writings of many another old worthy now
undeservedly slighted; and, for all their eulogies on him, the great
bulk of readers were still content to continue in ignorance of the
treasures he has bequeathed to us. The neglect