At one time in their history, the fate of letters was in the sole keeping of the troubadours. Had it not been for the frequent presentations and allusions made to literature in their songs, its chain, connecting past and present, would have been broken. An elegant French writer, speaking of the ancient troubadours, observes, "They banished scholastic quarrels and ill-breeding, polished the manners, established rules of politeness, enlivened conversation, and purified gallantry. That urbanity that distinguishes us (the French) from other peoples is the fruit of their songs; and, if it is not from them that we derive our virtues, they at least taught us how to render them amiable." I have thus briefly alluded to the early history and characteristics of the minstrel, because I consider such a course as just towards the present profession, and in order to show how sadly (in this country certainly) have its members deviated from the refined, the brilliant practices of their predecessors. Besides, in doing this, I am not without a hope that I may be contributing in some slight degree towards elevating a profession, the archetypes of which discoursed the finest music of their times, and whose courtliness of demeanor and varied acquirements were such as to render them the fit associates of persons of the highest culture. For, in this instance, why may not what has been be again? It is unnecessary to dwell at length upon the fact so sadly apparent, that the American minstrel has had for his principal "stock in trade" the coarse, the often vulgar, jest and song; a disgusting (to the refined) buffoonery, attended with painfully displeasing contortions of the body; and, worst of all, the often malicious caricaturing of an unfortunate race. It is, however, cause for gratulation, that American minstrelsy has of late been divested of much of its former coarseness; that its entertainments have become so much diversified and elevated in character--the musical portions of which at times so nearly approach the classical--as to render the same entirely different from the minstrel performances so common a few years ago. It is found that a public rapidly becoming enlightened, and freed from the influences of an unreasoning and cruel race-hatred, no longer enjoys with its former relish the "plantation act," so called, with all its extravagant and offensive accompaniments. Compelled to recognize this change of sentiment and taste, the best troupes now frequently give, instead of the "act" just mentioned, some other one, which, while comical enough, is yet free from features distasteful to people of refinement. In view of all this, may we not ask, Is the minstrel guild going back to the standards of its ancient and more noble days? Let us hope that it is.