er artists, need
encouragement. Applause gives heart, and, as Mrs. Siddons said, "better
still--breath." Mrs. Siddons's niece has put on record her views, as
valuable as her famous relative's: "'Tis amazing how much an audience
loses by this species of hanging back, even when the silence proceeds
from unwillingness to interrupt a good performance: though in reality it
is the greatest compliment an actor can receive, yet he is deprived by
that very stillness of half his power. Excitement is reciprocal between
the performer and the audience: he creates it in them, and receives it
back again from them."

To one set of actors a hiss takes the place of applause. It is the
highest compliment which can be paid to a "heavy villain," for it bears
witness to the truth with which he has sustained his character.

Sometimes the performer mistakes reproof for approval. An amateur
singer, describing to her father the great success she had achieved at
her first concert, concluded by saying, "Some Italians even took me for
Pasta."--"Yes," corroborated her mother: "before she had sung her second
song they all cried, 'Basta! basta!'" ("Enough! enough!")

Pasta herself is the heroine of an amusing anecdote. She gave her
servant, a simple _contadina_, an order for the opera on a night when
she appeared in one of her greatest parts. That evening the great prima
donna surpassed herself; she was recalled time and again; the audience
were wildly enthusiastic; almost every number was encored. Returning
home, she wearily asked her maid how she had enjoyed the play. "Well,
the play, ma'am, was fine, but I felt sorry for _you_," was the
reply.--"For me, child! And why?"--"Well, ma'am," said the waiting-maid,
"you did everything so badly that the people were always shouting and
storming at you, and making you do it all over again."

There are situations even worse than Pasta's, as Pauline Lucca has
recently discovered in Vienna, where she was fined fifty florins for
violating the law which forbids the recognition of applause. It seems
cruel to mulct a pretty prima donna for condescending to acknowledge an
encore.

Whether or not it be law in Austria to prevent a courtesy and a smile,
rewarding the enthusiasm of an audience, it is certainly law in England
and France that a dissatisfied spectator shall be at liberty to express
his dissatisfaction. It has been held by the Court of Queen's Bench
that, while any conspiracy against an actor or author