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SELWYN'S THEATRE
that of the life of man, to wit, threescore
and ten years, or, if the play be very
strong, fourscore years. That some of
the other dramas die hard is undeniable.
Caste leads in limpet ability to cling to
life. School is " revived " every now and
then for a few hours, but soon resumes its
slumbers. Yet, with the exceptions noted,
all these plays, as far as the public stage
of this country is concerned, are dead or
at their last gasp. It is curious to think
either of their life or of their death, of
the life and death of hundreds of their
contemporaries and near successors. Al-
bery? Yates? Charles Reade? Simpson?
Tom Taylor? Henry J. Byron? What,
what has become of all their lavish waste of
dramatic words? Even Still Waters Run
Deep — whose plot Mr. Tom Taylor did
cheerfully " convey," as " the wise it call,"
from Le Gendre of Charles de Bernard —
is a forgotten demi-semi classic. Byron's
Our Boys seems to have some of the salt
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