- Gaudeamus ! Humorous Poems translated from the German of Joseph

Victor Scheffel and others. By Charles G. Leland. (Trfibner.)—An interesting sketch of the poet, who is a native of Karlsruhe, inBaden, Ia prefixed to these translation, which are cleverly executed, and tender, probably as well as it could be rendered, the -wit of the.original,—wit which, though genuine and laughter-stirring, is just-a little cunibrons. The best of the pieces are a kind of travesties of science. Our readere will be glad to see a specimen. Here is "The Pile Builder

Damp smoky-like vapour is streaming O'er piles in the waters below, And far o'er the forest are gleaming The Alps in perpetual snow.

"A man on a wood block is sitting In furs, for the wind,draught is strong; With a flint chip a deer-horn splittiag, While he mournfully murmurs a song: '"See say face swollen up like the devil Remark how In wind, as it spins, The history of Europe primteval With rheumatics and toothache begins.

It is true that with stone-axe employment, Or with cults I can hammer my way, Bat no rational means of enjoyment Is known to the world in this day.

"Wild animals, wolfish or beery, Howl fierce round my forest-tree brown ; And when I build huts on the prairie The buffaloes batter them down.

-"And so, to the beaver a debtor, I build for myself in the flood ;

The further from firm land the better, A pile.clam in shingle and mud.

"'But much I am forced to dispense with What ages to come will. behold; I'd be glad of a good sword to fence with, But as yet there's no iron or gold.

"In stocks I would gladly grow wealthy, But exchange is not yet understood: A good glass of beer would be healthy, But never a drop has been brewed.

"And then how my horror increases To think of our cookery rude!

flow we crack a pigs bones into pieces, And suck out the marrow for food.

"And how can the soul be expected To form an ideal of taste, When nothing but poles are erected Around Ma watery waste?'

"He sang with a voice hoarse and failing, With rheumatics his temper was grim ; Two wild bears slipped over the pding,

And, climbing, came snapping at him.

"Down he threw, as with anger he flushes, Axe, deer-horn, and drink-cup of clay, Sprang, splash like a frog to the rushes, And paddled with curses away.

"Where once the Lacustrians Drove many a pillar or stake,

A stratum of relics is lying

'Neath the mud and the turf of the lake.

"And he who this song made for singing, Himself through those layers has mined, And the relics to daylight upbringing, Felt pride as a mortal refined."

We are bound to add that an occasional coarseness—we may 'instance "The Comet "—might have been advantageously p'runed.