89, before
the Nineteenth Century Club, in New York), and he called it "The
Autobiography of a Play." In the course of it, he illustrated how, in
his own play, called "Lillian's Last Love," in 1873, which one year
later became "The Banker's Daughter," he had to obey certain unfailing
laws of dramatic construction during the alterations and re-writing.
He never stated a requirement he was not himself willing to abide by.
When he instructed the Harvard students, he was merely elucidating his
own theatre education. "Submit yourselves truly and unconditionally,"
he admonished, "to the laws of dramatic truth, so far as you can
discover them by honest mental exertion and observation. Do not
mistake any mere defiance of these laws for originality. You might
as well show your originality by defying the law of gravitation." Mr.
Howard was not one to pose as the oracle of a new technique; in this
essay he merely stated sincerely his experience in a craft, as
a clinical lecturer demonstrates certain established methods of
treatment.

In his plays, vivacity and quick humour are the distinguishing
characteristics. Like his contemporary workers, he was alive to topics
of the hour, but, unlike them, he looked ahead, and so, as I have
stated in my "The American Dramatist," one can find profit in
contrasting his "Baron Rudolph" with Charles Klein's "Daughters of
Men," his "The Henrietta" with Klein's "The Lion and Mouse," and his
"The Young Mrs. Winthrop" with Alfred Sutro's "The Walls of Jericho."
He was an ardent reader of plays, as his library--bequeathed to the
American Dramatists Club, which he founded--bears witness. The fact
is, he studied Restoration drama as closely as he did the modern
French stage. How often he had to defend himself in the press from
the accusation of plagiarism, merely because he was complying with the
stage conventions of the moment!

It is unfortunate that his note-books are not available. But luckily
he wrote an article at one time which shows his method of thrashing
out the moral matrix of a scenario himself. It is called "Old Dry
Ink." Howard's irony slayed the vulgar, but, because in some quarters
his irony was not liked, he was criticized for his vulgarities.
Archer, for example, early laid this defect to the influence of the
Wyndham policy, in London, of courting blatant immorality in plays for
the stage.

Howard's femininity, in comparison with Fitch's, was equally as
observant; it was not as l