authors have, almost invariably, had long practical knowledge of the
scenes and of what is behind them. Shakespeare and his
contemporaries, Moliere and his contemporaries, had lived their lives
on the boards and in the foyer, actors themselves, or in daily touch
with actors and actresses. In the present day successful playwrights
appear to live much in the world of the players. They have practical
knowledge of the conventions and conditions which the stage imposes.
Neither Browning nor Mr Swinburne (to take great names) has had, it
seems, much of this practical and daily experience; their dramas have
been acted but rarely, if at all, and many examples prove that
neither poetical genius nor the genius for prose fiction can enable
men to produce plays which hold their own on the boards. This may be
the fault of public taste, or partly of public taste, partly of
defect in practical knowledge on the side of the authors. Of the
stage, by way of practice, Tennyson had known next to nothing, yet
his dramas were written to be acted, and acted some of them were.
"For himself, he was aware," says his biographer, "that he wanted
intimate knowledge of the mechanical details necessary for the modern
stage, although in early and middle life he had been a constant
playgoer, and would keenly follow the action of a play, criticising
the characterisation, incidents, scenic effects, situations,
language, and dramatic points." He was quite prepared to be "edited"
for acting purposes by the players. Miss Mary Anderson says that "he
was ready to sacrifice even his MOST beautiful lines for the sake of
a real dramatic effect."

This proved unusual common-sense in a poet. Modern times and manners
are notoriously unfavourable to the serious drama. In the age of the
Greek tragedians, as in the days of "Eliza and our James," reading
was not very common, and life was much more passed in public than