scientific stimulus and been carried to a degree of intellectual
refinement is very small, and the happy accident by which a man of
genius appears among the small number must be very rare. And in this
connection it is noteworthy, that the Russian who feels himself
called to artistic production almost always shows a tendency to epic
composition.

The difficulties of form appear terrible to the Russian. In
romance-writing the form embarrasses him less, and accordingly they
almost all throw themselves into the making of novels.

As is generally the case in the beginning of every nation's
literature, any writer in Russia is taken for a miracle, and regarded
with stupor. The dramatist Kukolnik is an example of this. He has
written a great deal for the theater, but nothing in him is to be
praised so much as his zeal in imitation. It must be admitted that in
this he possesses a remarkable degree of dexterity. He soon turned to
the favorite sphere of romance writing, but in this also he manifests
the national weakness. In every one of his countless works the most
striking feature is the lack of organization. They were begun and
completed without their author's ever thinking out a plot, or its mode
of treatment.

Kukolnik's "Alf and Adona," in which at least one hundred and fifty
characters are brought upon the stage, has not one whose appearance is
designed to concentrate the interest of the audience. Each comes in to
show himself, and goes out not to be in the way any longer. Everything
is described and explained with equal minuteness, from the pile of
cabbages by the wayside, to the murder of a prince; and instead of a
historical action there is nothing but unconnected details. The same