for very insufficient reasons on many plays well entitled to success.  It is not in this direction that we must look for any improvement that is needed in the purveying of material for the stage.  Believe me, the right direction is public criticism and public discrimination.  I say so because, beyond question, the public will have what they want.  So far, that managers in their discretion, or at their pleasure, can force on the public either very good or very bad dramatic material is an utter delusion.  They have no such power.  If they had the will they could only force any particular sort of entertainment just as long as they had capital to expend without any return.  But they really have not the will.  They follow the public taste with the greatest keenness.  If the people want Shakespeare—­as I am happy to say they do, at least at one theatre in London, and at all the great theatres out of London, to an extent unprecedented in the history of the stage—­then they get Shakespeare.  If they want our modern dramatists—­Albery, Boucicault, Byron, Burnand, Gilbert, or Wills—­these they have.  If they want Robertson, Robertson is there for them.  If they desire opera-bouffe, depend upon it they will have it, and have it they do.  What then do I infer?  Simply this:  that those who prefer the higher drama—­in the representation of which my heart’s best interests are centred—­instead of querulously animadverting on managers who give them something different, should, as Lord Beaconsfield said, “make themselves into a majority.”  If they do so, the higher drama will be produced.  But if we really understand the value of the drama, we shall not be too rigid in our exactions.  The drama is the art of human nature in picturesque or characteristic action.  Let us be liberal in our enjoyment of it.  Tragedy, comedy, historical-pastoral, pastoral-comical—­remember the large-minded list of the greatest-minded poet—­all are good, if wholesome—­and will be wholesome if the public continue to take the healthy interest in theatres which they are now taking.  The worst times for the stage have been those when play-going was left pretty much to a loose society, such as is sketched in the Restoration dramatists.  If the good people continue to come to the theatre in increasing crowds, the stage, without losing any of its brightness, will soon be good enough, if it is not as yet, to satisfy the best of them.  This is what I believe all sensible people in these times see.  And if, on the one hand, you are ready to laugh at the old prejudices which have been so happily dissipated; on the other hand, how earnestly must you welcome the great aid to taste and thought and culture which comes to you thus in the guise of amusement.  Let me put this to you rather seriously; let me insist on the intellectual and moral use, alike to the most and least cultivated of us, of this art “most beautiful, most difficult, most rare,” which I stand here to-day, not to apologize for, but to establish in the high place