He admits that
sometimes excess of zeal on the part of these hirelings brought about
public discontent and complaint; but, upon the whole, he judged that
they exercised a beneficial influence, especially in the prevention of
cabals or conspiracies against particular artists, and of certain
scandals attached to the rivalry and jealousy of performers. And to M.
Auguste he thus addressed himself: "You have a fine part to play;
great duties to perform: put an end to quarrels; help the weak against
the strong; never oppose the public; cease applauding on a hint of
their disapproval; present an example of politeness and decorum;
conciliate and pacify; above all, prevent all hostile combinations,
all unjust coalitions, against the artists on the stage, or the works
represented."

Dr. Veron has said, perhaps, all that could be said for the _claque_
system; but his plausible arguments and apologies will not carry
conviction to every mind. There can be no doubt of the value, the
necessity almost, of applause to the player; but one would much rather
that the enthusiasm of an audience was wholly genuine, and not
provided at so much a cheer, let us say, by the manager or the player
himself. "Players, after all," writes Hazlitt, "have little reason to
complain of their hard-earned short-lived popularity. One thunder of
applause from pit, boxes, and gallery is equal to a whole immortality
of posthumous fame." But if the thunder is but stage thunder? If the
applause is supplied to order, through the agency of a M. Auguste?
Upon another occasion Hazlitt expresses more tenderness for the
ephemeral glories of the actor's art. "When an author dies it is no
matter, for his work remains. When a great actor dies, there is a void
produced in society, a gap which requires to be filled up. The
literary amateur may find employment for his time in reading old
authors only, and exhaust his entire spleen in scouting new ones; but
the lover of the stage cannot amuse himself in his solitary
fastidiousness by sitting to witness a play got up by the departed
ghosts of first-rate actors, or be contented with the perusal of a
collection of old playbills; he may extol Garrick, but he must go to
see Kean, and, in his own defence, must admire, or at least tolerate,
what he sees, or stay away against his will." And Cibber, in his
apology, has placed on record an elaborate lament, "that the momentary
beauties flowing from an harmonious elocution cannot, like