DOI issue:
May 18, 1861
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16867#0207
May 18 1861.]
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
199
A POSER.
Precocious Pupil. “Please, Miss Jones, what is the meaning of Suburbs?”
Governess (who is extensively Crinolined). '‘The Outskirts of a Place, my
Dear.”
Pupil (seizing Miss J. by the Press). “ Then, Miss Jones, are these your
Suburbs ?”
OUR DRAMATIC CORRESPONDENT.
“ Dear Punch,
“The Royal Dramatic College (for the benefit whereof I attended a
performance on Friday evening last) is, I think, a very excellent and useful insti-
tution, and one that well deserves to dip into the pockets of the public. By
making known this fact through the medium of your columns, and by adding that,
the College is, like most of us, much in want of fuuds, and that the largest
contributions will be most thankfully received for it, I have doubtless done
enough to secure its present welfare, and to draw some surplus thousands to lay
by for rainy days.
“ I hope, however, that the public who subscribe so very liberally to whatever
is suggested to them by their Punch, will not fancy I have any further interest
in the matter than any one of them may in fa:r reason entertain. I am neither
actor, scene-painter, nor dramatic author, and have no hope to profit by the
praiseworthy arrangements which have been lately set on foot for the advantage
of the stage. But, as a member of the public, I feel it is my duty in some way
to contribute to the benefit of those who have in very many ways done much to
entertain me; and if any word of mine can be of help to this new College, I shall
be very glad that you have let me say it.
“I am perfectly aware that by blowing my small trumpet in favour of this
charity, I shall incur the serious anger of pious Exeter Hall, and be doomed to
brimstony blazes for encouraging immorality. I know that anything in any way
connected with the Stage is by certain of the Strand saints viewed as Devil’s
produce; and that, to them, it is profaning the sacred name of Charity to apply
it to the work of aiding Satan’s imps. Exeter Hall just now is in its ram-
pantest of postures ; and its horn is so exalted, there’s no dropping any sense in
it. Exeter Hall is now presenting its annual reports, and showing how many
beefsteaks it has supplied among the cannibals, and how many nude niggers it
has put in Christian clothes. Of course while Exeter Hall views actors as children
of perdition, and adds the fell word ‘ Bottomless ’ in the direction * To the Pit,’
it is of little use expecting a charitable word from it, and of course far less a
charitable gift. But saints should have a care how they
scatter their strong words, or, if not in the Pit., they may
be found in the wrong box. For instance, to speak ill of
the Royal Dramatic College is to prove oneself disloyal
and ill-speaking of the Crown. While the Queen allows
her name to head the Patrons of this charity, her loyal
subjects surely should abstain from thinking evil of it..
There never yet was known a more moral Court than
hers, yet the Queen goes to the play, and gives her
charity to players. To doubt the goodness of the Stage,
and its new appanage the College, is to cast a shadow of
suspicion on the Queen ; and under such a shade no son
of England ought to see her.
“ Bcec volvens animo (which, peradventure, some future
Kemble may be taught at the College to translate) I
went to Covent Garden, ‘kindly lent by Mr. Gye,* pre-
pared for bravely sitting through a nearly seven hours’
sight. That it occupied this length of time, was simply
owing to the fact that so many willing hands were anxious
to assist in it. Does this sympathy exist in other trades,
I wonder? Do hatters send the hat round for decayed and
stricken hatters ? or lawyers give their precious time, or
lend a helping brief, to aid a learned brother who, alas!
hath come to grief? As Heaven helpeth those who try
to help themselves, the promoters of the College, who in
person do so much for it, will surely be rewarded with
proportionate success.
“I have heard the British playgoer is sadly apt at
times to growl and grumble at not having enough shown
him for his money. But the bill of fare on Friday must
surely have contented the most gormandising appetite.
From tragedy and comedy to melodrama and farce, every
line of acting had its best representative. We had an
interview with Mr. Hamlet (otherwise known as Mr.
Fechter) and with Mr. Touchstone Keeley, Mr.
Protean Webster, and Mr. Jack Tar T. P. Cooke.
It made me feel quite young again to see this latter
veteran, who was as cheery in his voice, and as lively in
his legs, as though he were eighteen, instead of verging
upon eighty. To how many a British playgoer is T. P.
Cooke the beau idSal of the true-blue British Tar? and
where are we to hope that we may look to see his like?
When he comes bounding on the boards, he brings a sniff
of the sea with him. Stagy as perhaps it may appear in
other hands, he makes the part of the Stage Sailor the
most natural of characters. There is nothing coarse or
common in his talk, as he delivers it; but he shows the
British Sailor to be one of nature’s gentlemen, whose
heart is his Poll’s, whose purse is his friend’s, and as
for his life—’tis the Queen’s.
“But I must not longer dwell upon my dear old T. P.
Cooke, or I shall find myself deploring the declining of
the drama, and, in confirmation, citing Mr. Taylor’s clever
‘Duologue’ between old-fashioned high-flown Comedy and
modern low Burlesque. The ‘ fast’ school, with its slangy
puns that pass for wit, has, 1 think, done much to vulgarise
and to degrade the Stage. Through it, actors have been
taught to lose thought of their bearing as it bears upon
the plot, and to pay attention only to the smartness of
their speech. For a lady to deliver a near-the-wind allu-
sion, so as not to cause a blush, has been considered chief
among the charms of comic art; and how this can be
otherwise than lowering to taste, it passes my perception
as a critic to perceive.
“ But the fast school, I thank goodness, is fast wearing
itself out, and the tide of a reaction is now strongly set-
ting in. Let actors hold their heads up and not stoop to
be buffoons, and I am sure the better-thinking better
portion of the public will readily accord them its respect
and its support. The ‘ palmy days ’ we hear of may be
again revived, and the Royal Dramatic College will flourish
in its funds, and stretch its Wings until they cover all who
need its shelter.
“ I remain, Sir, a well-wisher to the Stage and all
its works, especially the work of charity here noticed,
“One who Pays.”
The Twa Bishops.
From Durham to Oxford—and Back.
Says Cheesy to Soapy, “ Your chaplains are Popey,
Who knocks at my door other vouchers must bring;*'
Savs Soapy to Cheesy, “ Your ethics are easy.
You hold that preferment should come with a Ring.*'
;
!
F
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
199
A POSER.
Precocious Pupil. “Please, Miss Jones, what is the meaning of Suburbs?”
Governess (who is extensively Crinolined). '‘The Outskirts of a Place, my
Dear.”
Pupil (seizing Miss J. by the Press). “ Then, Miss Jones, are these your
Suburbs ?”
OUR DRAMATIC CORRESPONDENT.
“ Dear Punch,
“The Royal Dramatic College (for the benefit whereof I attended a
performance on Friday evening last) is, I think, a very excellent and useful insti-
tution, and one that well deserves to dip into the pockets of the public. By
making known this fact through the medium of your columns, and by adding that,
the College is, like most of us, much in want of fuuds, and that the largest
contributions will be most thankfully received for it, I have doubtless done
enough to secure its present welfare, and to draw some surplus thousands to lay
by for rainy days.
“ I hope, however, that the public who subscribe so very liberally to whatever
is suggested to them by their Punch, will not fancy I have any further interest
in the matter than any one of them may in fa:r reason entertain. I am neither
actor, scene-painter, nor dramatic author, and have no hope to profit by the
praiseworthy arrangements which have been lately set on foot for the advantage
of the stage. But, as a member of the public, I feel it is my duty in some way
to contribute to the benefit of those who have in very many ways done much to
entertain me; and if any word of mine can be of help to this new College, I shall
be very glad that you have let me say it.
“I am perfectly aware that by blowing my small trumpet in favour of this
charity, I shall incur the serious anger of pious Exeter Hall, and be doomed to
brimstony blazes for encouraging immorality. I know that anything in any way
connected with the Stage is by certain of the Strand saints viewed as Devil’s
produce; and that, to them, it is profaning the sacred name of Charity to apply
it to the work of aiding Satan’s imps. Exeter Hall just now is in its ram-
pantest of postures ; and its horn is so exalted, there’s no dropping any sense in
it. Exeter Hall is now presenting its annual reports, and showing how many
beefsteaks it has supplied among the cannibals, and how many nude niggers it
has put in Christian clothes. Of course while Exeter Hall views actors as children
of perdition, and adds the fell word ‘ Bottomless ’ in the direction * To the Pit,’
it is of little use expecting a charitable word from it, and of course far less a
charitable gift. But saints should have a care how they
scatter their strong words, or, if not in the Pit., they may
be found in the wrong box. For instance, to speak ill of
the Royal Dramatic College is to prove oneself disloyal
and ill-speaking of the Crown. While the Queen allows
her name to head the Patrons of this charity, her loyal
subjects surely should abstain from thinking evil of it..
There never yet was known a more moral Court than
hers, yet the Queen goes to the play, and gives her
charity to players. To doubt the goodness of the Stage,
and its new appanage the College, is to cast a shadow of
suspicion on the Queen ; and under such a shade no son
of England ought to see her.
“ Bcec volvens animo (which, peradventure, some future
Kemble may be taught at the College to translate) I
went to Covent Garden, ‘kindly lent by Mr. Gye,* pre-
pared for bravely sitting through a nearly seven hours’
sight. That it occupied this length of time, was simply
owing to the fact that so many willing hands were anxious
to assist in it. Does this sympathy exist in other trades,
I wonder? Do hatters send the hat round for decayed and
stricken hatters ? or lawyers give their precious time, or
lend a helping brief, to aid a learned brother who, alas!
hath come to grief? As Heaven helpeth those who try
to help themselves, the promoters of the College, who in
person do so much for it, will surely be rewarded with
proportionate success.
“I have heard the British playgoer is sadly apt at
times to growl and grumble at not having enough shown
him for his money. But the bill of fare on Friday must
surely have contented the most gormandising appetite.
From tragedy and comedy to melodrama and farce, every
line of acting had its best representative. We had an
interview with Mr. Hamlet (otherwise known as Mr.
Fechter) and with Mr. Touchstone Keeley, Mr.
Protean Webster, and Mr. Jack Tar T. P. Cooke.
It made me feel quite young again to see this latter
veteran, who was as cheery in his voice, and as lively in
his legs, as though he were eighteen, instead of verging
upon eighty. To how many a British playgoer is T. P.
Cooke the beau idSal of the true-blue British Tar? and
where are we to hope that we may look to see his like?
When he comes bounding on the boards, he brings a sniff
of the sea with him. Stagy as perhaps it may appear in
other hands, he makes the part of the Stage Sailor the
most natural of characters. There is nothing coarse or
common in his talk, as he delivers it; but he shows the
British Sailor to be one of nature’s gentlemen, whose
heart is his Poll’s, whose purse is his friend’s, and as
for his life—’tis the Queen’s.
“But I must not longer dwell upon my dear old T. P.
Cooke, or I shall find myself deploring the declining of
the drama, and, in confirmation, citing Mr. Taylor’s clever
‘Duologue’ between old-fashioned high-flown Comedy and
modern low Burlesque. The ‘ fast’ school, with its slangy
puns that pass for wit, has, 1 think, done much to vulgarise
and to degrade the Stage. Through it, actors have been
taught to lose thought of their bearing as it bears upon
the plot, and to pay attention only to the smartness of
their speech. For a lady to deliver a near-the-wind allu-
sion, so as not to cause a blush, has been considered chief
among the charms of comic art; and how this can be
otherwise than lowering to taste, it passes my perception
as a critic to perceive.
“ But the fast school, I thank goodness, is fast wearing
itself out, and the tide of a reaction is now strongly set-
ting in. Let actors hold their heads up and not stoop to
be buffoons, and I am sure the better-thinking better
portion of the public will readily accord them its respect
and its support. The ‘ palmy days ’ we hear of may be
again revived, and the Royal Dramatic College will flourish
in its funds, and stretch its Wings until they cover all who
need its shelter.
“ I remain, Sir, a well-wisher to the Stage and all
its works, especially the work of charity here noticed,
“One who Pays.”
The Twa Bishops.
From Durham to Oxford—and Back.
Says Cheesy to Soapy, “ Your chaplains are Popey,
Who knocks at my door other vouchers must bring;*'
Savs Soapy to Cheesy, “ Your ethics are easy.
You hold that preferment should come with a Ring.*'
;
!
F