An unwritten law has existed for a long time to the effect that the critical estimates which fix the status of a book by a Negro author shall be written by white men. Praise or blame—. the elementary criticism which expresses only the reviewer’s feelings in reference to the book—has generally been the sole function of the Negro critic. And the results have not been good. For, in the first place, white critics (except in music) have been too prone to judge the product of a Negro author as Dr. Johnson judged the dancing dog: “It isn’t at all like dancing; but then, one shouldn’t expect more from a dog.” That is why many Negro poets of fifth grade merit are able to marshal ecomiums by the bushel from friendly white critics who ought to know better. On the other hand, there is the danger of disparagement arising solely from racial prejudice and the Caucasian refusal to take Negro literary products seriously. In either case the work fails to secure consideration solely on its merits. Wherefore, it is high time that competent appraisal of Negro books should come from “our side of the street.” But, then, the Negro reading public should be taught what to expect, viz., that criticism is neither “knocking” nor “boosting”; but an attempt, in the first place, to furnish a correct and adequate idea of the scope and literary method of the book under review, of the author’s success in realizing his objects, and of the spirit in which he does his work. In the second place, the critic should be expected to bring his own understanding of the subject matter of the book to bear upon the problem of enlightening the readers’ understanding, that at the end the reader may decide whether the work is worth his particular while. This book of Dr. Du Bois’ is one which challenges the swing of seasoned judgment and appraisal. It challenges also free thinking and plain speaking. For, at the very outset, find ourselves forced to demur to the publishers’ assumptions as to its author’s status. “Even more than the late Booker Washington, Mr. Du Bois is now chief spokesman of the two hundred million men and women of African blood.” So say the publishers—or the author. But this is outrageously untrue. Once upon a time Dr. Du Bois held a sort of spiritual primacy among The Talented Tenth, not at all comparable to that of Booker Washington in scope, but vital and compelling for all that. The power of that leadership, however, instead of increasing since Mr. Washington’s death, has decreased, and is now openly flouted by the most active and outspoken members of The Talented Tenth in Negro America. And, outside of the twelve or fifteen millions “of African blood” in the United States, the mass of that race in South and West Africa, Egypt and the Philippines know, unfortunately, very little of Dr. Du Bois. It may be, however, that this is merely a publishers’ rhodomontade.