work is
the soul, the immortal, noble part of drama, and that the players form
only the gross, corporeal element.

There may be some truth in Guilbert's remarks: "The dramatic is the most
inferior of all arts. The play passes through too many channels, and
comes before the public as a cramped, crushed and faded form. The writer
... sees his play in one light, the theatrical manager receives it and
sees it in another, the stage-manager adds his own way of understanding
it, the actor takes it up according to his own temperament and talents,
and the public sees it from a fifth point of view. Add to this ten or
twelve subsidiary characters. How can an author claim, under such
circumstances, to remain the absolute master of his work?"

The term "subsidiary characters" to some extent explains the attitude of
the actress. It is a suggestion of the famous "_moi-meme et quelques
poupees_" which exhibits the clash of ideas that forms the basis of the
ineradicable antagonism between the original author and the actor. Each
naturally thinks himself the master.

To the true dramatist the players are as the colours on the palette, the
instruments in the orchestra--or, perhaps, the players of them--the
stone of the sculptor; their task is to give bodily form to his ideas,
clothes and flesh to the "soul" of his drama, and, as far as possible,
to efface themselves in doing their duty.

The player, on the other hand, regards the dramatist as someone intended
to write splendid parts for him--parts in which, to use the stock
phrase, he "sees himself"--sees _himself_. Unfortunately the dramatists
have, on the whole, been the sufferers, the slaves.

Sardou enslaved himself to Bernhardt; there are grounds for thinking
that but for this slavery he might have been a great dramatist and not
merely a rich, supremely skilful play fabricator. For a long time the
players have had the upper hand, mainly because of the servility of the
dramatists, but there are signs of a change. Already the "ten or twelve
subsidiary actors" phrase is becoming out of date. We have seen play
after play at the Court with parts of different degrees of importance,
but hardly any "subsidiary" characters in the sense in which Yvette
Guilbert uses the term.

There are moments when the letter of Guilbert seems a joke or a hoax.
One does not like to think that she said, "The true comedian finds his
success in himself, and can do without the dramatic author. He easily
ut