the labours of the Spanish Jews in handing over to the West some of the literary treasures of the East, together with those of the Greeks and Romans, it is doubtful whether these valuable works would have been preserved to us. The principal representatives of the Spanish Hebrew poets were—Solomon Ibn Gabirol, Abraham Ibn Ezra, Jehuda Halevi, and Jehuda Alcharizi. But as their lives and works have already been largely dealt with by several eminent scholars, it is only proposed to give here a few specimens of their humour. Solomon Ibn Gabirol, who was born in Malaga in 1020, acquired the reputation of being a profound philosopher, but his special claim to recognition rests on his poetry. The leading characteristic of his verse is its sadness, although some of his poems were written in a vein of pure humour. His poem entitled _Kether Malchus_ (the Royal Crown) is undoubtedly one of his best poetic compositions. It has for its theme the loftiest of subjects—God, the Universe, and Man. Humboldt considers it to be the noblest monument of Neo-Hebraic poetry, inasmuch as it contains vivid flashes which recall the poetical inspiration of the prophets. Ibn Gabirol's humour is, however, best represented in his famous “Wine-song,” which he composed at a banquet given to him by a wealthy but niggardly man called Moses. Gabirol and the other guests had nothing offered to them to drink but water, and indignant thereat he wrote a few stanzas, the refrain of which was easily taken up and chanted by the whole company. The song runs in a free English translation somewhat as follows:— I Full sweet of a truth is the sparkle of wine, But sorely we miss this blessing divine, And how can we waken a song or a laugh When we find that we simply have nothing to quaff But water, mere water? II The banquet has little contentment to bring, Bears little incitement to joke or to sing, When the potions we hoped to our future would fall Turn out in the end to be nothing at all, But water, yes water. III Good Moses of old caused the waters to flee, And led all his people dryshod o'er the sea; But Moses, our host, at the precedent frowns, And us, his poor guests, he unflinchingly drowns In water, cold water. IV We sit round the table like cold-blooded frogs, Who live out their lives in the watery bogs; Well,—if we have fallen on watery days, Let us, too, like them, croak a paean in praise Of water, dear water. V