and that must be my recompense." It was Schiller who wrote: "My submission to the public convenience does not extend so far that I can allow any holes in my work and mutilate the characters of men." And Goethe exclaimed: "Nothing is more abhorrent to a reasonable man than an appeal to the majority." Lessing has said: "I have no objection to criticism condemning an artist, but it must not contaminate him. He must continue his work knowing that he is happier than his detractors." And Lessing points the moral in adding: "Genius is condemned to utter only absurdities when it is unfaithful to its mission." Bernard Shaw and Granville Barker, two of the able dramatists to whom Mr. Archer tenders his advice, have won "the ear of their contemporaries" equally with the more popular writers, Barrie and Maugham, and this they have done by the production of one or two plays which did not reach their hundredth performance. Euripides was none the less famous, as a dramatist, because the Athenian playgoers disliked his opinions and banished him from their midst. In fact, a dramatist is only great when he is able to dispense with the requirements of popular taste; nor will he be satisfied with the knowledge that his play leaves some definite impression upon an audience unless it be that particular impression which belongs to tragedy, or comedy, or history, or pastoral drama, or conversational comedy. Let it be, then, frankly admitted that a dramatist cannot both live in advance of the opinions of his audience and also reflect them. It is very well for Mr. Archer to talk about the vessel which does not float, but his illustration is surely less obvious than he imagines. A Noah's Ark will float on the ocean to-day as easily as it did in the days of the Flood, but no modern shipbuilder now would risk his reputation in constructing such a boat on the plea that it remains above water. Will the vessel weather the storms? Will it outlive its competitors? These are the vital questions in the art of both shipbuilding and playwriting.