Punch (51.1866)

November 10, 1866.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

189

FLUNKEIANA.

Master. “ Thompson, I believe that i have repeatedly expressed an
Objection to being served with Stale Bread at Dinner. How is it my
Wishes have not been Attended to ? ”

Thompson. “ Well, Sir, I reely don’t know what is to be Done ! It
won’t do to Waste it, and we oan’t Eat it Down-stairs ! ! ”

“ETHEL” AT THE ADELPHI

Many worse plays than Ethel have found kinder critics. Why it should be
so, we will not presume to guess. Dramatic criticism in the London daily papers
is now, and has long been, a mystery: one of the mysteries, however, best left
alone—on the old principle that the more you poke in it the less agreeable you are
likely to find its savour.

It seems that Ethel was half-damned the first night. One is so thankful to
find that the power of dealing theatrical damnation still remains to our excellent
British Public, that one would hardly quarrel with any exercise of the function.
But the Ethel of the first night must have been much worse than the Ethel we saw
last week, or the British Public, as often happens with functions rarely brought
into play, was making a mis-deal of its double d’s. In point of fact, we are
told that one particularly offensive scene, in which Mu. Stephenson (as father)
and Mu. Billington (as son) indulged in a prolonged chuckle over the subject
of seduction, has wisely been cut out; and that our old friend, the pruning-knife.
has been beneficially applied in other places. That useful instrument might still
be advantageously called in to lop some ten minutes off the opening part of the
first act, and nearly as much off the earlier portion of the last.

Probably John Bull, when he shouted “trash” and “rubbish” as the curtain
fell on Ethel the first night, sniffed the Prench atmosphere which pervades the
piece, and didn’t like it. In truth, that atmosphere is not pleasant; and it does
not lose in offensiveness when a strong dash of English vulgarity is stirred up
with the original “stock” of Prench profligacy. The Prench piece or story is
one that needed especially delicate handling in the adapter and in the artists.
Such handling, with some eminent exceptions, it has not had at the Adelphi. The
vulgarity which is rampant in the part played by Mu. Billington, for example,
would have been toned down by a more tasteful adapter, or softened by a more
refined artist. Such a Hilton throws the unfortunate Ethel quite out of gear. One
can’t, for one’s life, understand how so refined a girl-and of course in the gentle
hands of Kate Teuuy we cannot forget Ethel’s refinement for a moment—should
have tolerated such a swaggering snob, and even sacrificed for his most offensive

advances the affections of the well-spoken, decently-
behaved little Doctor, so nicely played by Mu. Ashley.

If Mu. Billington had dressed and acted his part with
more judgment, we should not feel this incongruity. As
it is, it is forced home upon us every moment. Mu. Bil-
lington has fallen into the great and perfectly super-
fluous mistake of making Hilton Wordley more vulgai
than the other parts he plays. Let him try to refine the
part as much as he can, and he will hardly come up to
the mark of bearing and manners required to make the
retired linendraper’s son tolerable.

There is not a word to be said on this score against Mr.
Stephenson’s Old Wordley. His purse-proud, selfish snob-
bishness was natural, quite in keeping with his position
in the piece, and very artistically shaded throughout. It
WQuld be hard to point out any actor in London who
would have played the part better. But the part of
Judith is • another instance in which adapter and actor
concur to make an offensive original more offensive in
the copy. Miss Eurtado should be less pert and
shrewish, which should be easy for one so pretty and intel-
ligent.

It is very common for our dramatic critics to confound
the part and the performer, and to ascribe merits to the
latter, of which the former ought to have all the credit;
but Ethel is really a part in which the actress has an
excellent action for heavy damages against the adapter.

With all the drawbacks we have allowed for, and in spite
of the drama’s narrow escape the first night, there is
nothing now to be seen in London comparable to Miss
Terry’s performance of Ethel for refinement in the truest
sense, which in no way excludes power, but is rather
power in its most sublimated form; for those subtler
graces of acting which reach the heart while they delight
the eye; which satisfy the most exacting criticism, and
contain nothing to offend the most fastidious taste. With
the appreciation of gifts like hers are bound up the best
hopes of those who value refined theatrical art at the
present not very brilliant epoch of its fortunes.

There is no fear of a British public not appreciating
hearty fun, and well-uttered humour, in the hands of so
true a mistress of her craft as Mrs. Mellon. But with
an average audience, we fear, the fun goes farther than
the art at all times, even in winning favour for such an
Abigail as Mrs. Mellon. Considering what our public
is, when our comic actors are conscientious as well as
laughter-moving, we ought to be very much obliged, to
them. We owe Mrs. Mellon a heavy debt of obligation
on this score. She is always a true artist, and never
loses sight of nature and its limitations, even when at her
blithest and broadest. But all lovers of the stage, and
especially all theatrical critics, should pray for, and pro-
mote the due appreciation of that more refined art which
finds expression in an actress like Miss Kate Terry ; for
such appreciation requires culture and delicate perceptions,
fine susceptibilities, and hearts as well as heads in the
right place. May she long continue to delight us, and
may she soon have a pleasanter part, one giving more
scope to her great powers, and with cheerier surroundings
than she has in Ethel,—though we must, in fairness, end
as we began, by expressing a very decided opinion that
many a worse, and infinitely worse-acted, piece has found
kinder critics.

Calling a Thing by its Right Name.

Having read Mr. Swinburne’s defence of his prurient
poetics, Punch hereby gives him his royal licence to change
his name to what is evidently its true form—Swine-born.

risk-allah.

Touching the hero of this memorable cause-celebre an
unfeeling contributor remarks that his case seems to have
had about it a good deal more of the Risk than the Allah.

MHDICAL.

A Sculptor friend, who has strabismus, consoles him-
self with the thought that he can always keep his profes-
sion in view through having a cast in his eye.

Ritualistic.—It is proposed to change the locality of
St. Alban’s, Holborn, to St. Alban’s, Vestmentster