ABSTRACT
Swine cannot appreciate pearls. This has at last become a well-known fact, acknowledged by the majority. The majority of people known to us certainly appreciate pearls; therefore
the majority may be said to appreciate that which is both exquisite and precious. I do not care whether the pearls are appreciated because they are so rare
and so costly-all the better that they are so-or because they look so lovely. Either reason is good enough, for the result is the same. Wonder and excitement are aroused, the things are sure to be handled tenderly, and the wearer will probably hold her head more charmingly than before. Thus we see that to be near the precious and the exquisite is to become more exquisite, more precious, ourselves. It is a pity that the Theatre is neither exquisite nor precious. I want, in place of violent expression of violent emotions and ideas, more
exquisite expression of more precious emotions and ideas. In place of vulgar materials, such as prose, coarse wooden boards,
canvas, paint, papier mâché and powder, I would like more precious materials to be employed: Poetry, or even that far more precious Silence-ebony and ivory-silver and gold-the precious woods of rare trees-exquisite silks unusually dyed-marble and alabaster-and fine brains. The public is no fool: it will not value a lump of coal above a diamond; it
prefers silk and ivory any day to wood and canvas. A critic who denies this is a duffer. So then, gentlemen, I ask you to consider the imitation Lily of the
Theatre and to compare it with that more precious species, with her of the field. And thanking you for past criticisms, I ask you to criticize justly the
present material of the modern theatre. If you do so even with tolerance you will rouse us all to a state bordering upon exquisite rage; but you will confer upon the Theatre an honour-the honour of believing that it is still open to noble criticism, still worthy of judgment pronounced upon its essentials, and not alone upon its non-essential details.
