be sure, certain arbitrary
conditions of the trade of publishing have exercised an influence
over the structure of the novel. In England, early in the nineteenth
century, it was easier to sell a three-volume novel than a tale of
lesser compass; and many a story of the time had to be pieced out
beyond its natural and truthful length in order to meet the demands of
the public and the publishers. But such a case, in the history of
the novel, is exceptional. In general, the novelist may build as he
chooses. He may tell a tale, long or short, happening in few places or
in many; and is not, like the dramatist, confined in place to no more
than four or five different settings, and in time to the two hours'
traffic of the stage. The novel, therefore, is far more serviceable
than the drama as a medium for exhibiting the gradual growth of
character,--the development of personality under influences extending
over long periods of time and exerted in many different places.

Thirdly, the very content of the drama is determined by the fact
that a play must be devised to interest a multitude rather than an
individual. The novelist writes for a reader sitting alone in his
library: whether ten such readers or a hundred thousand ultimately
read a book, the author speaks to each of them apart from all
the others. But the dramatist must plan his story to interest
simultaneously a multitude of heterogeneous observers. The drama,
therefore, must be richer in popular appeal; but the novel may be
subtler in appealing to the one instead of to the many. Since the
novelist addresses himself to a single person only, or to a limitless
succession of single persons, he may choose the sort of reader he will
write for; but the dramatist must please the many, and is therefore at
the mercy of the multitude. He writes less freely than the novelist,
since he cannot pick his auditors. His themes, his thoughts, and his
emotions are restricted by the limits of popular appreciation.

This important condition is potent in determining the proper content
of dramatic fiction. For it has been found in practice that the
only thing that will keenly interest a crowd is a struggle between
character and character. Speaking empirically, the late Ferdinand
Brunetiere, in his preface to "_Annales du Theatre et de la Musique_"
for 1893, stated that the drama has dealt always with a struggle
between human wills; and his statement, formulated in the
catch-phrase, "No strugg