Wienbarg, after his general preliminary remarks, proceeds to make an analysis of Uhland's drama, _Louis the Bavarian._ It is excellent and accomplishes everything that it should accomplish, by combining the characterization of the poet with the characterization of the German drama in its totality, of which totality the individual drama is an organic part. Of course every reader will wish that Wienbarg had rendered the tragedy, _Duke Ernest_, the same friendly service, of which Uhland's dramas, in their unostentatious simplicity, stand so much in need, if they are ever to receive the appreciation which they deserve. Were it fitting to prolong the criticism of a criticism to such an extent, I should myself attempt to elucidate this most German of tragedies in all its ramifications; perhaps this will be done in another place. We are rich and consider ourselves poor; we have the diamonds, and there shall not be wanting people who know how to cut them. May the second part of Wienbarg's treatise very soon appear! Many a one is now pushing forward the hand on the horologe of time and hastening nothing thereby but the hour of his own execution. Wienbarg is not one of these. REVIEW OF HEINRICH VON KLEIST'S PLAY THE PRINCE OF HOMBURG, OR THE BATTLE OF FEHRBELLIN (1850) By FRIEDRICH HEBBEL TRANSLATED BY FRANCES H. KING THE PRINCE OF HOMBURG is one of the most peculiar creations of the German mind, for the reason that in it, through the mere horror of death, through death's darkening shadow, has been achieved what in all other tragedies (this work is a tragedy) is achieved only through death itself: that is to say, the moral purification and apotheosis of the hero. The whole drama is planned to bring about this result, and what Tieck, in a well known passage, declares to be, the kernel of it, namely the illustration of what subordination is, in reality is only the means to an end. Neither do I agree with Tieck when he remarks further that the sleep-walking scene with which the piece begins, and the final _dénouement_ connected with it add to the other merits of the drama by lending it the charm of a pleasing and attractive fairy-tale. On the contrary, this feature is to be censured because it is disturbing, and if, as in _Käthchen of Heilbronn_, it were intimately inwoven in the organism of the work it would deprive the latter of its claim to be considered a classic. For man must not be forced to do penance for the mischief which the moon causes; otherwise we might be obliged to call it a tragedy if a man, having climbed up to the apex of the roof in his sleep, and been spied there by his sweetheart, who, in the first terror of surprise, called his name, should fall at her feet crushed to pieces! Happily, however, we can eliminate the whole sleep-walking episode and the work continues to be what it is; it stands immovable on a solid psychological foundation, and the rank weeds of Romanticism, have only