that his vision also has its
limitations, and that student, actor, and spectator of Shakespeare's
plays are all alike exploring a measureless region of philosophy and
poetry, "round which no comprehension has yet drawn the line of
circumspection, so as to say to itself 'I have seen the whole.'" Actor
and student may look at Shakespeare's text from different points of
view: but there is always as reasonable a chance that the efficient
actor may disclose the full significance of some speech or scene which
escapes the efficient student, as that the student may supply the
actor's lack of insight.

It is, indeed, comparatively easy for a student of literature to
support the proposition that Shakespeare can be, and ought to be,
represented on the stage. But it is difficult to define the ways and
means of securing practical observance of the precept. For some years
there has been a widening divergence of view respecting methods of
Shakespearean production. Those who defend in theory the adaptability
of Shakespeare to the stage are at variance with the leading managers,
who alone possess the power of conferring on the Shakespearean drama
theatrical interpretation. In the most influential circles of the
theatrical profession it has become a commonplace to assert that
Shakespearean drama cannot be successfully produced, cannot be
rendered tolerable to any substantial section of the playgoing public,
without a plethora of scenic spectacle and gorgeous costume, much of
which the student regards as superfluous and inappropriate. An
accepted tradition of the modern stage ordains that every revival of a
Shakespearean play at a leading theatre shall base some part of its
claim to public favour on its spectacular magnificence.

The dramatic interest of Shakespearean drama is, in fact, deemed by
the manager to be inadequate to satisfy the necessary commercial
purposes of the theatre. The average purveyor of public entertainment
reckons Shakespeare's plays among tasteless and colourless
commodities, which only become marketable when they are reinforced by
the independent arts of music and painting. Shakespeare's words must
be spoken to musical accompaniments specially prepared for the
occasion. Pictorial tableaux, even though they suggest topics without
relevance to the development of the plot, have at times to be
interpolated in order to keep the attention of the audience
sufficiently alive.

One deduction to be drawn from this posit