wise, before relying on an effect of this order, to make sure that it
is, not only possible, but convenient from the practical point of view.
In one or two other cases Ibsen strained the resources of the stage. The
illumination in the last act of _Pillars of Society_ cannot be carried
out as he describes it; or rather, if it were carried out on some
exceptionally large and well-equipped stage, the feat of the mechanician
would eclipse the invention of the poet. On the other hand, the abode of
the Wild Duck in the play of that name is a conception entirely
consonant with the optics of the theatre; for no detail at all need be,
or ought to be, visible, and a vague effect of light is all that is
required. Only in his last melancholy effort did Ibsen, in a play
designed for representation, demand scenic effects entirely beyond the
resources of any theatre not specially fitted for spectacular drama, and
possible, even in such a theatre, only in some ridiculously
makeshift form.

There are two points of routine on which I am compelled to speak in no
uncertain voice--two practices which I hold to be almost equally
condemnable. In the first place, no playwright who understands the
evolution of the modern theatre can nowadays use in his stage-directions
the abhorrent jargon of the early nineteenth century. When one comes
across a manuscript bespattered with such cabalistic signs as "R.2.E.,"
"R.C.," "L.C.," "L.U.E.," and so forth, one sees at a glance that the
writer has neither studied dramatic literature nor thought out for
himself the conditions of the modern theatre, but has found his dramatic
education between the buff covers of _French's Acting Edition_. Some
beginners imagine that a plentiful use of such abbreviations will be
taken as a proof of their familiarity with the stage; whereas, in fact,
it only shows their unfamiliarity with theatrical history. They might as
well set forth to describe a modern battleship in the nautical