The first of Mr. Oscar Wilde's allegories or parables, or whatever he may call them, is admirable. A young king, who is a passionate lover of the beautiful, dreams on the eve of his coronation sundry dreams in which he sees how the splendors on which his heart is set are won by the sufferings and death of thousands of unknown toilers. So struck is he by these visions, that he will have none of the glories with which it is intended to adorn him for his coronation. He goes to the church with a rude cloak of sheepskin and a leathern tunic, and a wreath of wild briar round his head; but the sunlight streaming through the painted window envelops him with such a splendor that none can refuse to honor him. The 'Birthday of the Infanta' shows the pathos of a loving soul lodged in a deformed body. As to 'The Fisherman and his Soul', we cannot exactly see the scope of it. The fisherman gets rid of his soul in order to win the love of a mermaid, and the soul sent out without a heart commits all kinds of atrocities. That is a fine idea; but the purport of the whole eludes us. Mr. Wilde writes, as usual, in a highly ornate style. (Spectator)