stage as a source of amusement, and, as a rule, whatever sinks to the level of a pastime is forever degraded. This was the cause of all the evil; this was the reason why for a long time dogs and monkeys, prestidigitators and modern athletes, celebrated their triumphs where art should have proclaimed her most profound oracles, and where a people should have found refreshment and elevation in quiet self-enjoyment, in the mild exertion of all their powers, and in the sensation of arousing their most secret sympathies and antipathies. Wienbarg believes that a turning point has now been reached. To this belief we owe his present literary contribution "which consists in seeking critically to elucidate, in irregularly appearing pamphlets, modern dramatic literature--especially book-dramas, which are rarely or not at all seen on the stage. He is guided in his selection each time by some dramatic-educational purpose for author and public, and continually bears in mind an ideal centre of taste in the historic-poetic consciousness of the nation." Such an undertaking, carried out by a man who combines insight into the subject with the gift of presenting it as the times require, deserves full recognition. Only that criticism which knows how to make itself respected, can regain for the muse of the drama her temple, the stage; this cannot be done by the muse herself, who, every time she seeks to enter, is, with the politest of bows, shoved into the corner again by her noble priesthood. Criticism must, in view of the voluntary poverty of our repertory, draw attention to the neglected riches of our dramatic literature; it must, by characterization and analysis, act as mediator between the genius of the poet and the talent of the actor, and it sins heavily against the present when it turns its attention chiefly to the recent past which has not yet been canonized. It can, as a general rule, never look back often enough.