few,
the intention that of the old Greek comedy--a satire on manners.

Boucicault, in his latest success--the "Shaughraun"--and in his other
Irish dramas, notably the "Colleen Bawn," uses three and even five
scenes in an act, with perfect freedom, while in others, almost as
successful in their day, such as "Jessie Brown," "Octoroon," the French
form seemed to him to be preferable. Some principle must have guided
him in this distinction, as it did Bulwer, and the same elements
probably decided both to tell one story in one way, the other in
another. It is observable that both treat a romantic and complicated
story, with numerous characters and considerable of the villanous
element, in numerous scenes, whereas a realistic picture of actual
manners, such as "Money," "Octoroon," "Jessie Brown," falls naturally
into few scenes. The climax of each of these last mentioned plays, be
it observed, is produced by the operation of general causes, the laws
of society in "Money" and "Octoroon," the operation of a historical
fact in "Jessie Brown," while in the romantic plays the climax depends
on the action of the characters, determined by accidental
circumstances, irrespective of general laws. The respective rank of
"Money" and the "Lady of Lyons" in the lapse of years can hardly, I
think, be doubted. The first will hold its own with the "School for
Scandal," when the "Lady of Lyons" is forgotten, along with "The
Duenna." The recent success of Augustin Daly in adapting the "School
for Scandal" to mono-scenic acts shows how readily that form lends
itself to the exigencies of legitimate comedy. The single fault of that
adaptation is that the first act drags, just as Sardou's first acts
always drag, but the audience forgets that as the story progresses. The
result of our ramble through the instances mentioned seems to be this
canon:

XIV. Mono-scenic acts are best for high comedy, realistic and society
dramas; multi-scenic acts succeed best with romantic and complicated
plots.

We have now explored, with more or less success, some of the general
and broad principles that underlie dramatic construction taken as a
whole, without regard to particular forms and instances. It would seem
that a brief excursion into the domain of particulars may not be out of
place, partly as a recreation, partly to test the accuracy of our past
conclusions. Let us take, for instance, the greatest popular successes
of late years, and try to find wherein l