Dramatic literature in Hungary in the last thirty years has been growing very rapidly; and both the drama of the “world” _folk_, and that of the “world” _monde_ has met with very gifted, nay, in some cases, exceedingly gifted writers. During that period, Hungary has completely regained its absolute autonomy, and the Hungarian State, from having had an annual revenue of not quite sixteen millions in 1867, has now a revenue of over forty million pounds a year. Budapest has grown to be a town of over six hundred thousand inhabitants; and the general progress of Hungary, material as well as intellectual, social and political, has been such as, relatively, that of no other country in Europe in the same period. In the midst of the dramatic movement of all organs of the Hungarian commonwealth, the drama proper could not but make great strides too. It is here impossible to do justice to each of the very numerous and talented Hungarian dramatists of our day. We should only like, in treating of a necessarily small number of modern Hungarian writers of dramatic works, to premise a remark in the interest of a better understanding of their literary value. The English or American public are, as a rule, very much inclined to think little of things of which they have “never heard.” We are not blaming them for that. Reading as they do great newspapers every day, they naturally come to think that, to alter the old legal phrase, “what is not to be found in the ‘paper,’ that does not exist.” Hungarian dramas are seldom or never translated for the English stage; they are never talked about in the press; hence, the general public will tacitly assume that they can be worth but little. However, it is with Hungarian dramas as with Hungarian fruit. Although Hungary produces exquisite fruit of all kinds, and in enormous quantities too, the English consumer of fruit has never heard of “Hungarian apples” or “Hungarian grapes,” while he is quite familiar with American or Tasmanian apples of an inferior quality. The reason of that is simple: the Hungarians are still in the infancy of the great art of export. It is even so with the Hungarian drama. It is not being cleverly enough exported; it wants active agents and middlemen to bruit it about. We venture to say that the western nations are the losers by ignoring or overlooking, as they do, the modern Hungarian drama. In taking the trouble to make the acquaintance of the dramas of Eugene Rákosi, Edward Tóth, Gregory Csiky, Lewis Dóczi, Lewis Dobsa, Joseph Szigeti, John Vajda, Árpád Berczik, Stephen Toldy, Anton Várady, Lewis Bartók, etc., etc., they would find that together with the greatest European mines for ore proper, Hungary has also many a profound mine of ore dramatic, no less than fine specimens of coins minted out of that ore. There is now a “tradition” of no inconsiderable duration in the art of acting; and several actors of the very first quality, such as Rose Laborfalvy (the late Mrs.