Punch (48.1865)

January 14, 1865.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

15

ANTI EVERYTHING SOCIETIES.

he existence of an
Anti-Tobacco So-
ciety, in addition to
a sect of Vegeta-
rians and a United
Kingdom Alliance
against fermented
liquors, attests the
working of a prin-
ciple whose pro-
gressive operation
may produce still
further evidences
of the fussy im-
pertinence of rest-
less and officious
noodles. We may
expect soon to be
pestered with—

An Anti-Tea So-
ciety.

An Anti-Coffee
Society.

An Anti-Vinegar
andPepper Society.

An Anti-Mustard
Society.

An Anti-Lollipop
Society, affiliated to
the Band of Hope.

An Anti-Spice Society,established on the principle that ginger shall not be hot
in the mouth.

An Anti-Butter Society.

An Anti-Cheese Society.

An Anti-Soap-and-Water Society.

An Anti-Music Society.

An Anti-Dancing Society.

An Anti-Theatrical Society.

An Anti-Social Society.

An Anti-Tales-of-Fiction Society.

An Anti-Croquet Society.

An Anti-Whist Society.

An Anti-Chess Society.

An Anti-Cricket Society.

An Anti-Yachting Society.

An Anti-Shooting Society.

An Anti-Pishing Society.

An Anti-Hunting Society.

An Anti-Dog-and-Cat Society.

An Anti-Matrimonial Society, and
An Antimonial Society. And, if that should not be
enough to. make all rational people sick of Anti Societies,
An Anti-Punch Society, to consist of all the quacks, and
humbugs, and blackguards, and asses, and curmudgeons on
the face of the earth.

Pam on the Three Us.

People wonder that Lord Palmerston, after so long a
life, spent almost exclusively in the highest branches of
the Civil Service of his country, should be as emphatic
on the importance of a legible handwriting, and a mastery
of the first rules of arithmetic as if he had been made sen-
sible that these things are generally neglected.

They forget his painful experience in Government Offices.

A NEW ARM OF THE SERVICE.

A Novel Corps is about to be added to the gallant
Volunteers who have formed to defend, if necessary, their
native land. It will be embodied under the name of The
Beer Engineers, and will be trained to the performance of
a special service in the defence of the Public.

MR. PUNCH'S HANDY-BOOK OP THE STAGE.

CHAP. VI.—THE LIGHT COMEDIAN.

The Actor who embarks in this line of business will, of course, bear
in mind, that though his usual characters will be the Pops and Swells
of the past and present, he is not to consider himself bound to study
the actual manners of that class of persons in real life.

To require this would be to restrict this line of business to persons
who by birth and education themselves belong to that class, or have by
circumstances been brought in contact with it.

This would be impossible: and, if possible, intolerable. We should
gain nothing by it but the insupportable monotony of good-breeding,
the dulness of which is so often complained of in real life. Instead of'
this, the tradition of the stage has preserved for us a volatile, brisk,
easy rattle, as unlike the actual Swell of this or any period, as cham-
pagne is unlike small beer. Both the fight comedian and the champagne
are artificial, but how exhilarating!

Always speak at a gallop; and acquire the art of running your words
off the tongue distinctly, without punctuation, emphasis, or pause for
breath. The lightness of your comedy depends mainly on the quantity
of “lengths” you can cover in a given time. “ Pace ” must, therefore,
be the first point in your estimation: emphasis, character, emotion,
and so forth, are out of your range, and should be avoided. Indeed
you will do well never to allow any feeling whatever to be introduced
into your part if you can keep it out. If it is there, make as little of it
as possible, or even “guy it” (i.e. make it ridiculous), to use an
expressive technicality of the green-room. Light comedy parts ought
not to be weighted with anything approaching to “ the heavy; ” and
if the Author forget himself so far as to mix up things so discordant, it
is the Actor’s duty to correct his mistake.

In this, as in so many points, the example of Shakspeare has been
mischievous to the Dramatist and injurious to the Actor, by its apparent
sanction of the blending of incongruities.

Never enter a room by a door, if there is a Prench window. If the
author have neglected to provide an appropriate opportunity for such
an entry, see that the stage arrangement is altered so as to admit of it.

Always come into a room with your hat on, and keep it on, till you
can find an opportunity of putting it down somewhere. You may often
get an effect out of this, by choosing a bust, or some other comical rest
for your “ tile.” There is nothing more embarrassing than a hat held
in the hand.

Never pause to salute ladies, or the gentlemen who may be in the
room you are entering. It takes time and looks ceremonious.

Be jaunty and familiar in your manner with soubrettes and waiting-

maids : chuck them under the chin, call them “ my dear,” kiss them,
and offer them money. These things are not done now, but they probably
were done in those livelier times, when our standard of stage manners
was settled. No doubt these manners were originally taken from real
fife, and being found suitable for the stage, have survived there, after
dying out in Society. This is the very best reason for your sticking to them.

Never sit straight in a chair; turn its back to the audience, and cross
your arms atop of it. Sitting on the table, also, will be found effective,
and will enable you to swing your legs in a degage and stage-gentleman-
like manner.

Slap your friends on the shoulder, in speaking to them, and _ poke
elderly persons in the ribs. These are more of those valuable relics of
a former state of manners, which have been happily preserved for us in
the matrix of stage-tradition, as the ichthyosauri and pterodactyls in
the lias and oolite of the geologist. The stage is, indeed, little but an
accretion of fossilised manners ; and it is your duty to deal with these
records of extinct usage as reverently as Professor Owen would
handle a fossil of the Stonesfield slate, or an Elephant’s tusk from the
Norwich mud.

Let your dress be as fight and as loud as possible. Wear white hats
in preference to black. Enamelled boots are indispensable on all occa-
sions. Never mind, whether you are supposed to be in evening,
walking, or shooting dress. You know you have only come from your
dressing-room; and “appearance” should be the fight comedian’s
first law. Por the same reason, lavender or straw-coloured gloves
should always be worn.

Wrist-bands turned back over the coat-cuffs have a good effect, and
may be worn independently’ of the shut. Trousers tightly strapped
over the boot, too, have a smart and jaunty appearance, and both have
the great recommendation of having now disappeared from real fife.

Au easy run should be cultivated. It will get you over the stage
faster than walking, is not “ realistic,” and looks fight.

You cannot be expected always to preserve “ buoyancy ” of feeling
in your performance. Por this reason it is important to have at your
command every little art of voice, limb and manner which looks fight,
jaunty, and free and easy.

A distinguished light comedian of the present day, who carries these
happy resources of his art to their highest perfection—not Mr. Charles
Mathews, who, I grieve to say, is always degenerating into the man-
ners of real life—once said to Mr. Punch, in complaining of a brother
light comedian who had dressed a part in clothes that might have been
worn by any young Swell of the day, “ Had I played the part, Sir, I
should have worn a waistcoat like a volcano, and a cravat like a
cataract.” So well did he understand the true laws of fight comedy
costume.