for instance, I remember his saying—"When you have the good fortune to act with an actress like Miss Terry, the artist dominates the woman under any conditions of costume, and the least suggestion is easily grasped and appreciated. In all times, modes and manners must influence each other, and different gestures inevitably accompany different costumes. You would not, for instance, see a lady when wearing Grecian draperies disport herself in the same fashion as one bearing the stiff stomacher and monstrous farthingale of the Elizabethan period." Again, we were discussing the question of colour in relation to certain emotions, moods, and traits of character. "Who would think of playing a murderer in sky-blue satin and silver? "Sir Henry said. And not pausing for my reply: "Of course one expects a woman to go mad in white. Can you picture Hamlet in colours? Surely he demands black clothes, indeed the text says as much,—although the colour for the expression of mourning in Denmark at that period was, I believe, red."
But, after all, the first thing is, or should be, to fit the personality to the character, and then the question of dress is comparatively easy. John Ryder, by the way, used to explain his protracted engagement with Charles Kean as being solely due to what he was wont to call his "archaeological" figure.
It has been questioned whether the public cares, or knows, much about the details of stage dress, upon which so much time and thought are bestowed; but then it is recognised that amongst the neglected arts is the art of costume, and pending the establishment of the Royal Academy of Dress,
