rs to
pay their rent. Fewer but far more exasperating are the epistles in
which people express their hearty agreement with opinions which we have
never expressed, and give praise and encouragement to us for attacking
institutions that we do not think undesirable or defending conduct
really deplored by us. Even the obscure are often misunderstood.

CHAPTER III

THE DRAMATIC CRITIC

An Attack upon him

After careful consideration, and almost taking the trouble of rereading
some of my little essays, we have failed to discover exactly why the
letter set out hereafter was written. Apparently the articles have been
a little bitter concerning what some of us call commercial drama, even
rather ferocious about a recent crop of plays.

Certainly it seems well that the other side should be heard, that the
middle-class sensualist--perhaps "the average hedonist" is a better
translation of "_l'homme moyen sensual_"--should be allowed to express
his views; for one is disinclined to attach importance to the Philistine
observations in the theatrical trade papers or in the interviews with
managers. At the same time, some doubts are possible concerning the
letter; it seems to contain some implicit evidence that it was concocted
by somebody holding a brief, by a person accustomed to controversy; it
is written on the Sports Club notepaper, and merely signed "A
Middle-Aged Pleasure-Seeker."

"DEAR SIR,--I have read a great deal about the theatres in _The
Westminster Gazette_, signed by 'E.F.S.' I take in the paper because I
disagree with its views on all topics--particularly the drama--and I
like to hear the other side. Why have you not got a sense of humour?
Why do you not cease flogging that dead horse, the British Drama? Do you
think you can flog it into life? Do you believe that British Drama, as
you understand it, ever did live, or ever will? I don't. There is too
much common sense in London.

"Why do you persist in girding at Mr Tree because he gives beautiful
scenery instead of what you think fine plays? Lots of people enjoy his
entertainments. I don't myself, for I agree with you that Shakespeare
and Phillips are tiresome. I notice, by the way, that you even begin to
gibe at the scenery and suggest that it is not beautiful because it is
too pretty, which is a mere paradox, and of course absurd. Why do you
keep howling against melodrama and musical comedy?

"Above all, what grounds have you for supposing that we can