This was an extravagant and
childish case; but the superstition of heroic self-sacrifice still
lingers in certain quarters, and cannot be too soon eradicated. I do not
mean, of course, that self-sacrifice is never admirable, but only that
it can no longer be accepted as a thing inherently noble, apart from its
circumstances and its consequences. An excellent play might be written
with the express design of placing the ethics of self-sacrifice in their
true light. Perhaps the upshot might be the recognition of the simple
principle that it is immoral to make a sacrifice which the person
supposed to benefit by it has no right to accept.
Another motive against which it is perhaps not quite superfluous to warn
the aspiring playwright is the "voix du sang." It is only a few years
since this miraculous voice was heard speaking loud and long in His
Majesty's Theatre, London, and in a play by a no less modern-minded
author than the late Clyde Fitch. It was called _The Last of the
Dandies_,[3] and its hero was Count D'Orsay.
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