banished from the Japanese Parnassus, where the Muse of Tragedy warbles, and the lyric Muse utters nothing but ditties of exquisite and melting sweetness, which soothe the ear, but never stir the heart: while their meaning is often so obscure as even to elude the understanding. Allied to this polite reserve of the courtly poets of Japan is the simplicity of their style, which is, doubtless, in a large measure, due to the meagre range of spiritual faculties which characterize the Japanese mind. This intellectual poverty manifests itself in the absence of all personification and reference to abstract ideas. The narrow world of the poet is here a concrete and literal sphere of experience. He never rises on wings above the earth his feet are treading, and the things around him that his fingers touch. But within this limited area he revels in a great variety of subjects. In the present anthology will be found ballads, love-songs, elegies, as well as short stanzas composed with the strictest economy of word and phrase. These we must characterize as epigrams. They are gems, polished with almost passionless nicety and fastidious care. They remind us very much of Roman poetry under the later Empire, and many of them might have been written by Martial, at the court of Domitian. They contain references to court doings, compliments, and sentiments couched in pointed language. The drama of Japan is represented by two types, one of which may be called lyrical, and the other the comedy of real life. Specimens of both are found in the present collection, which will furnish English readers with a very fair idea of what the most interesting and enterprising of Oriental nations has done in the domain of imaginative literature. E. W. BALLADS THE FISHER-BOY URASHIMA 'Tis spring, and the mists come stealing O'er Suminoye's shore, And I stand by the seaside musing On the days that are no more. I muse on the old-world story, As the boats glide to and fro, Of the fisher-boy, Urashima, Who a-fishing loved to go; How he came not back to the village Though sev'n suns had risen and set, But rowed on past the bounds of ocean, And the sea-god's daughter met; How they pledged their faith to each other, And came to the Evergreen Land, And entered the sea-god's palace So lovingly hand in hand, To dwell for aye in that country, The ocean-maiden and he-- The country where youth and beauty Abide eternally. But the foolish boy said, "To-morrow I'll come back with thee to dwell; But I have a word to my father, A word to my mother to tell." The maiden answered, "A casket I give into thine hand; And if that thou hopest truly To come back to the Evergreen Land, "Then open it not, I charge thee! Open it not, I beseech!" So the boy rowed home o'er the billows To Suminoye's beach.