Although I cannot close my eyes to the terrible consequences that would ensue were your offence to pass absolutely unpunished, I am anxious to give the fullest effect to the very strong recommendation to mercy which the jury have appended to their verdict. On the whole, I concur with that recommendation, for I think you have received but scant justice at the hands of your opponents. The piece that has been played is not your own, and although your own play may be a bad play, you are entitled to expect that it will be played in its integrity and without additions. It is true that the plays of Shakespeare are frequently mutilated without apparent detriment to their attractive powers, but your light is not the light of Shakespeare. If I may so express myself, your night-light has been seen through a fog, and its natural glimmer is not calculated to show to advantage through such a medium. I am glad, for the credit of the dramatic profession, to believe that you are an exceptional instance of an ill-treated author. My own experience as a play-goer teaches me that at well-conducted theatres, such as the Haymarket, the Lyceum, the St. James's and the Court, pieces are placed upon the stage with excellent taste, and that the companies of those and other theatres habitually contribute a most valuable element towards such success as the author's plays may achieve. But you have not been so fortunate as to have your play produced at one of these well-regulated establishments. You have had the misfortune to fall into the hands of a manager who is no manager, and of a company who, whatever their histrionic skill may be, are wholly disentitled, by lack of taste and discretion, to
