562 The Rights of Dramatists. [MAY, 



the gentleman who so introduces it j and who, from being constantly 

 made the solitary feature of a piece, is blown up at the expence of his 

 brother actors, into false importance, and straightway demands the most 

 extravagant terms. It is from such causes that we have imported melo- 

 drames played by actors of thirty, forty, fifty pounds per week salaries. 

 Translation has produced this evil, and a want of protection of dramatic 

 copyright has produced translation, by keeping from the stage writers of 

 original thought. 



This system has absolutely degraded the calling of a dramatist j he is 

 looked upon as a mere literary tailor, who, with patterns in hand, (i. e. 

 last imported French pieces from Soho-square), takes measure of his 

 man, and, if he fit him, receives his miserable pay. At one time, English 

 dramatists looked abroad into the world for their materials, they took a 

 comprehensive view of human nature for their immortal works, and 

 trusted to the actor, who is only an actor in proportion as he is worthy of 

 that trust, to mould himself to the embodyment of the poet. Then, a 

 drama was a high creation, for it was the result of the study of human 

 nature in its various and complex workings : then, a drama was a 

 picture of the human heart a mirror of man. What is a modern 

 drama, in its general acceptation ? What are the motives that induce its 

 composition, what the materials that form its worth ? Why, the adaptor 

 sees no other human nature save that within the circuit of a green-room ; 

 he fits his work to an actor's peculiarity j he adapts and pares down the 

 world to the actor, instead of making the actor dilate himself to the world. 

 If such were not the case, should we constantly read in the papers such 

 notices as the following : " We understand that Mr. has a forth- 

 coming drama, in which, we hear, he has taken exact measure of !" 



Taken measure ! Only think of Macbeth, or Falstuff, or Sir Giles Overreach, 

 or Bobadil, being written " to measure !" Yet it is to this grovelling 

 custom that we owe the degradation of the present stage. It is this 

 system that has sacrificed the dramatic genius of the country to the in- 

 terested vanity of a few mannerists, in themselves no more comparable 

 to the genuine actors who have preceded them, than are the ephemera 

 by which they live comparable to the highest triumphs of the olden 

 days, when to write a drama was to know the soul of man. 



We repeat it ; according to the present system, the author is made 

 the drudge, the poor dependent of the actor. We may well illustrate 

 the relative situations of actor and writer, by a scene from Sheridan's 

 Duenna. There are the red- faced minions of the cloister, the knaves 

 with " three inches on their ribs," dividing wealth amongst one another, 

 pouring libations down their throats, and roaring " this bottle's the sun of 

 our table :" there they are in their pampered unnatural greatness, each 

 " a star," at forty or fifty pounds per week, accounts at their bankers and 

 carriages at the door ; there they are, filled " even to bursting 5" and 

 there is the lay brother, the poor dramatist, in shrunk starvation, hardly 

 daring to call his soul his own, whispering his words, and, lowly bending, 

 scratching up, almost by stealth, the crumbs that fall from the feeders' 

 table. Can this be called a forced description of actors, engaged at from 

 thirty to fifty pounds per week ; and the author, who for perhaps six 

 months' labour, after much pain and trouble, attendance and solicitation, 

 and with great good luck to boot, gains, it may be, one hundred pounds 5 



