ntury that, although the
audience were at liberty to demand the presence of an actor upon the
stage, particularly with a view to his giving an explanation of any
matter in which he had offended them, this privilege did not extend to
the case of anyone connected with the theatre other than in a
histrionic capacity. Thus, when in the year 1744 a serious riot
occurred in Drury-lane Theatre, relative to the excessive charges made
for admission to an old entertainment--it being understood that for
new entertainments it was permissible to raise the prices--"the
Manager (Mr. Fleetwood) was called for by the audience in full cry;
but, not being an actor, he pleaded his privilege of being exempted
from appearing on the stage before them, and sent them word by one of
the performers that he was ready to confer with any persons they
should depute to meet him in his own room. A deputation accordingly
went from the pit, and the house patiently waited their return."

At this time, no doubt, the actor laboured under certain social
disadvantages; and the manager who did not act, however insignificant
a person otherwise, was generally regarded as enjoying a more
dignified position than that occupied by the most eminent of
performers. In time, of course, the status of the actor improved, and
he outgrew the supposititious degradation attaching to his exercise of
his profession. We have lived to see composers, authors, and even
scene-painters summoned before the foot-lights, nothing loath,
apparently, to accept this public recognition of their merits. But
these are innovations of quite recent date. In a reputable literary
and critical journal,[6] of forty years back, appears an account of
the production at the English Opera House (now the Lyceum Theatre) of
the opera of "Nourjahad," the work of the late Mr. E.J. Loder, of
Bath, then described as the leader of the theatrical orchestra there,
and the son and successor of Mr. Loder, whose talents as a musician
had been long known in that city, and at the Philharmonic and other
concerts. Much praise is awarded to the work, and then we find the
following paragraph:

[6] _The Athenaeum._

"The silly practice of calling for a favourite actor at the end of a
play was upon this occasion, for the first time, extended to a
composer; and Mr. E.J. Loder was produced upon the stage to make his
bow. As the chance portion of the audience could not possibly be aware
that a gentleman so little known