emember what I was saying to you the other day about
the educative power of the stage? That's what it is, you see; the
greatest educative power in the land. How did that last scene go? Made
the people in the stalls sit up a bit, I reckon. Ah, it's a great
life, this. Talk of art! I tell you, young gentleman, acting's the
only art worthy of the name. The actor's all the artists in creation
rolled into one. Every art that exists conspires to produce him and to
perfect him. Painting, for instance; did you ever see anything to
compare with that Banqueting Scene in the Palace? Why, it's a triumph
of pictorial art, and, by Jove, of architecture too. And the actor
doesn't only paint scenes--or get them painted for him, it comes to
the same thing--he paints himself. Look at me, for instance. Why, I
could paint you, young gentleman, so that your own mother wouldn't
know you. With a few strokes of the brush I could transform you into a
beautiful young girl, or a wrinkled old Jew, or an Artful Dodger, or
anything else you had a fancy for. Music, again--think of the effect
of that slow music in the first act. There was pathos for you, if you
like. Oratory--talk of Demosthenes or Cicero, Mr Gladstone or John
Bright! Why, they're nowhere, my dear young friend, literally nowhere.
Didn't my description of the dream just _fetch_ you? Be honest now; by
George, Sir, it thrilled the house. Look here, young man"--and
Sardanapalus began to speak very slowly, with tremendous emphasis and
solemnity--"and remember what I'm going to say until your dying day.
If I were to drink too much of this, I should be intoxicated; but what
is the intoxication produced by whiskey compared with the intoxication
of applause? Just think of it, as soberly and calmly as you
can--hundreds of people, all in their right minds, stamping and
shouting and yelling for you to come and show yourself before the
curtain; the entire house at your feet. Why, it's worship, Sir, sheer
worship; and worship is a very sacred thing. Show me the man who's
superior to _that_, and I'll show you a man who's either above or
below the level of human nature. Whatever he may be, I don't envy him.
To-morrow morning I shall be an ordinary citizen in a frock-coat and a
tall hat. To-night I'm a king, a god. What other artist can say as
much?"

So saying, Sardanapalus puffed up his cigar and swallowed another
half-glass of liquor. The pungent smoke made Austin cough and blink.
"It must indeed