e is left to the punishment of his reflections and
his disappointed hopes. Certainly he incurs no bodily risk from the
incivility of the pit or gallery. But the old violent method of
condemning a play is nearly out of vogue. The offending work is now
left to expire of inanition, as it were. Empty benches and a void
treasury are found to be efficacious means of convincing a manager
that he has failed in his endeavour to entertain the public.

For some time the successful author, yielding to the demand that he
should appear personally before the audience, was content to "bow his
acknowledgments"--for so the proceeding is generally described--from a
private box. It was felt, however, that this was but a half measure.
He could be seen by a portion of the audience only. From the private
box to the stage was but a step, and the opinion prevailed that if he
was to appear at all, he must manifest himself thoroughly, and allow
the whole house a fair opportunity of viewing him. Still it should be
understood that it is at the option of the dramatist to present
himself publicly or to remain in private, and leave the audience to
form such conjectures as may occur to them concerning the nature of
his physical aspect. The public have no more real right to insist on
the dramatic author's crossing the stage than to require that a
successful poet, or novelist, or historian, shall remain on view at
his publisher's for a specified time after the production of his
latest work. It is necessary to insist on this, because a little scene
that occurred a short time since in a London theatre shows some
misapprehension on the subject in the minds of certain of the public.
A successful play had been produced by a well-known writer, who was
called for in the usual manner at the conclusion of the performance.
The stage-manager explained the non-appearance of the author--he was
not in the house. Thereupon an angry gentleman stood up in the pit,
and demanded "Why isn't he here? He was here during the performance,
because I saw him." The stage-manager could only repeat that the
dramatist was not then in the theatre. "But he never appears when he's
called for," cried the complainant; and he proceeded to mention
instances in support of his statement, the stage-manager being
detained upon the stage some time during the progress of his argument.
The sympathies of the house appeared to be altogether with the
expostulant, and the notion that the author had an