in this way as a matter of course; and to this, far more than to
any prejudice against dramatic art, we owe the Puritan formula
that the theatre door is the gate of hell. Macready had a hard
struggle to drive the prostitutes from his theatre; and since his
time the London theatres controlled by the Lord Chamberlain have
become respectable and even socially pretentious. But some of the
variety theatres still derive a revenue by selling admissions to
women who do not look at the performance, and men who go to
purchase or admire the women. And in the provinces this state of
things is by no means confined to the variety theatres. The real
attraction is sometimes not the performance at all. The theatre
is not really a theatre: it is a drink shop and a prostitution
market; and the last shred of its disguise is stripped by the
virtually indiscriminate issue of free tickets to the men. Access
to the stage is so easily obtained; and the plays preferred by
the management are those in which the stage is filled with young
women who are not in any serious technical sense of the word
actresses at all. Considering that all this is now possible at
any theatre, and actually occurs at some theatres, the fact that
our best theatres are as respectable as they are is much to their
credit; but it is still an intolerable evil that respectable
managers should have to fight against the free tickets and
disorderly housekeeping of unscrupulous competitors. The dramatic
author is equally injured. He finds that unless he writes plays
which make suitable sideshows for drinking-bars and brothels, he
may be excluded from towns where there is not room for two
theatres, and where the one existing theatre is exploiting
drunkenness and prostitution instead of carrying on a legitimate
dramatic business. Indeed everybody connected with the theatrical
profession suffers in reputation from the detestable tradition of