nd merely leave the padding behind; but,
unfortunately, you cannot skip the dull parts of a play unless it is a
very well-known work, like _Hamlet_ or _Macbeth_, when, if a man has a
good seat, he can escape quite a lot of the philosophising passages.

"The solid truth is that we English, like the Americans, have too much
good sense to worry about drama. There are a certain number of cranks
and faddists who get an unholy delight out of eccentric plays, but they
are few in the Anglo-Saxon countries, where good sense reigns. We only
take fairy tales seriously when we are children; we never get
intoxicated by ideas; this is where we differ from the Continentals. Art
is all very well in its way and in its proper place. I like a good
picture, or a good song, or a rattling story as well as anybody; but art
ought not to be shoved down our throats. You will observe that the
Americans, really a great people, are like us in this respect, and none
of their plays--at least those that come over here--belong to the
intellectual drama about which you rave. When they want to be
intellectual they play Shakespeare, not giving us more of the Bard than
is absolutely necessary, but letting us have full measure of pretty
music, scenery and dresses. Augustin Daly used to do it perfectly.

"By all means have a little theatre of your own and enjoy dull plays in
it, but don't denounce our cakes and ale, or think yourself any better
than people with healthy tastes who can enjoy such works as _Mrs Dot_,
or _The Explorer_, or _The Duke's Motto_. And what does it matter where
the plays come from any more than where the nuts come from? Anyone would
think you were a rabid Protectionist who reads your howls about imported
plays. Art is universal, not local--I read that in some real high-toned
book--and if a play is good, don't worry whether its author is French or
German or American. You don't grumble if he is Norwegian. Why not? Do
be consistent even if you cannot be broad-minded. And, lastly, let the
Censor alone; you have flung enough mud at him; I am tired of reading
energetic attacks which you know quite well are mere beating of the
wind. Your unfortunate reader,

"A MIDDLE-AGED PLEASURE-SEEKER"

It is fair to add that the amiable correspondent is inaccurate in some
of his allegations. We have never said that the plays of Shakespeare or
Phillips are tiresome, or that Mr Tree's scenery is not beautiful
because it is too pretty, but have hinted t