Compared with the pitiful puppet "romances" of to-day, this genuine piece of throbbing fiction seems to be in distinctly another class. Mr. Frank Keenan, with whose praiseworthy effort to emulate the tactics of M.

Antoine in Paris my readers are familiar, gave up the Berkeley Lyceum ghost, unable to weather the storm and stress of experiment. While admiring Mr. Keenan's energy, and appreciating the little one-act bills that he offered with such rapid-transit celerity, it is impossible to avoid deprecating the lack of logical foresight that he manifested.

He trifled with our young affections, aroused our enthusiasm and inspired in us the belief that a permanent institution was inevitable, and then-quietly dropped out. In other walks of life, people who make experiments have generally supplied themselves with the wherewithal to wait while their schemes approach fruition. Rome was not built in a day, but if the builders thereof had been actors, Rome never would have been built at all! The actor, who is usually a singularly unbalanced person, looks for immediate success, and can endure nothing else.