DOI Heft:
September 15, 1883
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17755#0134
PUNCH, OP THE LONDON CHAPIVAPI.
[September 15, 1883.
PROM OUR PRIVATE BOX OP BOOKS.
Marlowe’s Faustus and Goethe’s Faust form the third volume
of Morlev’s Universal Library, brought out by Messrs. George
RouteedgF, AVI) Sons, the first having been Sheridan’s Plays, and
the second, Plays from Moliere, adapted by such eminent English
Dramatists as Dryden, Vanbrugh, Wycherly, Fielding, and that
Myest old dog of all the collies that ever lived, Colley Cibber.
They are most useful reprints, good type, and portable.
Professor Morley, who ought to be named Professor More-and-
Mor-ley from the amount of work he undertakes, gives us, as the
latest instalment of the Macmillan series of handy biographies,
Richard Brinsley Sheridan, by Mrs. Oliphant, who, writing, of
course, well and brightly throughout, is only thoroughly successful
m her account of Sheridan’s domestic life. This part of the mono-
graph is admirably done ; but, in her treatment of his dramatic work
and of his theatrical career, Mrs. Oliphant fails, either from lack of
appreciation, or of practical experience ; and again, her treatment
of his political career leaves much to be desired. Mr. Sam Weller's
opinion that an abrupt conclusion, is the great art of letter-writing,
because it makes the reader wish “as there was more of it,” does
not hold good as regards the biography of such a meteoric character
as Richard Brinsley Sheridan.
To return to the Plays of Moliere by eminent adapters of the
Restoration period, Professor Morley has taken good care that if the
dialogue is a bit wearisome to readers of modern Plays in ‘ ‘ Lacy’s
Edition” (chiefly studied by Amateurs in search of “something
likely to suit us ”), it shall at least be free from unnecessary offence,
and this he has managed without any Podsnapian Bowdlerism, and
yet with due regard to the blushes of “ the young person,” who will
probably (we tried it on two) get tired of Sir Martin Marr-all in
about a quarter of an hour, and. simply remark, as she lays down the
book and thanks you for nothing, “ I never read Moliere in the
original, but this must be a very bad translation.” We didn’t unde-
ceive that young person: it was John Dryden’s.
Then we tried the Plain Dealer on another student of the modern
Drama who knew nothing of William Wycherly except his name,
and he also thought it -was a poor translation of a play he had heard
a good deal about, and expressed his opinion that the entire collection,
in which he could never so far interest himself as to take more than
a cursory dip into it, was probably a lot of pieces that had been
refused by Managers. These standard Comedies are certainly not
light reading, ana without skilful condensation might be very heavy
acting.
Humber five of Professor More-and-MoR-LEY’s series is to be
Rabelais’ Gargantua and the Heroic Deeds of Pantagruel. The aid
of Professor Podsnap, and Drs. Bowdler and Barlow must surely be
invoked before Henry Sandford and Tommy Merton can take it
home and read it to Susan Sandford and Mary Merton. The
experienced Editor, however, has in his manifesto already declared
that he “intends to respect that change in the conventions of Society
which excludes now from our common acquaintance certain plain-
nesses of thought and speech once honestly meant, and honestly
allowed.” Plainnesses indeed! they are downright uglinesses,
deformities, spots on the Shakspearian sun, and'foul blots on the
fun and humour of the Dramatists of the Restoration.
“The use and beauty of old monuments,” says Professor More-
and-MoR-LEY, “ are, surely, separable from their dust and dirt.”
This, as a canon of literary and dramatic revival, seems to recom-
mend itself to public judgment, but in historical resuscitations, such.
LAYS OB A LAZY MIA7STEEL,
RAMBLING RONDEAUX.
Baveno.
Beneath the Vines, Hotel Belle Vue,
I ’m very certain I know who
Here loves to trifle, I’m afraid,
Or lounge upon the balustrade,
And watch the Lake’s oft changing hue.
’Tis sweet to dream the morning through,
While idle fancies we pursue,
To pleasant plash of passing blade—
Beneath the Vines!
I love to laze ; it’s very true,
1 love the sky’s supernal blue ;
To sit and smoke here in the shade,
And slake my thirst?with lemonade,
And dream away an hour or two—
Beneath the Vines!
Mr. Walford’s Handy Books arc very handy. Such
good titles too—only that Conservatives might call them
“ radically bad as, for instance, The Shilling Peerage,
the Shilling Baronetage and Knightage, and Shilling-
House of Commons. Perhaps, consule Chamberlaino,
when titles will be limited to Peeral Servitude for Life,
we shall have the Eourpenny Peerage, the Threepenny
Baronetage, the Twopenny Knightage (it’s dangerously
near this at present), and the House of Commons will be
thrown in; but this last depends on what Government
is “thrown out.” As for Knightage, at the present day
it might have a chapter to itself entitled, “Honours
Easy.'” _
A Vord oe Vaughaning.—At the Gloucester Festival
of the Three Choirs—very much the cheese this, Treble
Gloucester—Dr. Vaughan in his sermon told his audience
that an Oratorio in a Cathedral was the right thing in
the right place, and, said the Daily Telegraph's Corre-
spondent, “the weight of his (Dr. Vaughan’s) character
and office wnnt into the ri°ht scale.” Of course the
Special was a musician, hut he might have told us what
he considers the “ ripht scale.” Probably he would
reply, in this instance, “The scale of See (of Gloucester).”
That’s Major: and, if so, wouldn’t Dr. Vaughan have
all the Minor Canons against him ?
Con. eor Female Economists.—Would the prohibition
of tight-lacing be a violation of “freedom of contract"f
TABLES TURNED.
Poor Beggar. “Please spare a Penny, Sir. I haven’t had any Dinner
to-day 1 ” Swell. “ Paw Beggah ! ”
Poor Beggar. “I haven’t had a Meal since Yesterday, Sir!”
Swell. “ Paw Beggah ! ”
Poor Beggar. “I’vs got a Wife and Children, Sir, all starving!”
Swell. “Paw Beggah!”
Poor Beggar. “Please spare a Penny, Sir!”
Swell. “Haven’t got one—aw!” Poor Beggar. “Paw Beggah!”
[September 15, 1883.
PROM OUR PRIVATE BOX OP BOOKS.
Marlowe’s Faustus and Goethe’s Faust form the third volume
of Morlev’s Universal Library, brought out by Messrs. George
RouteedgF, AVI) Sons, the first having been Sheridan’s Plays, and
the second, Plays from Moliere, adapted by such eminent English
Dramatists as Dryden, Vanbrugh, Wycherly, Fielding, and that
Myest old dog of all the collies that ever lived, Colley Cibber.
They are most useful reprints, good type, and portable.
Professor Morley, who ought to be named Professor More-and-
Mor-ley from the amount of work he undertakes, gives us, as the
latest instalment of the Macmillan series of handy biographies,
Richard Brinsley Sheridan, by Mrs. Oliphant, who, writing, of
course, well and brightly throughout, is only thoroughly successful
m her account of Sheridan’s domestic life. This part of the mono-
graph is admirably done ; but, in her treatment of his dramatic work
and of his theatrical career, Mrs. Oliphant fails, either from lack of
appreciation, or of practical experience ; and again, her treatment
of his political career leaves much to be desired. Mr. Sam Weller's
opinion that an abrupt conclusion, is the great art of letter-writing,
because it makes the reader wish “as there was more of it,” does
not hold good as regards the biography of such a meteoric character
as Richard Brinsley Sheridan.
To return to the Plays of Moliere by eminent adapters of the
Restoration period, Professor Morley has taken good care that if the
dialogue is a bit wearisome to readers of modern Plays in ‘ ‘ Lacy’s
Edition” (chiefly studied by Amateurs in search of “something
likely to suit us ”), it shall at least be free from unnecessary offence,
and this he has managed without any Podsnapian Bowdlerism, and
yet with due regard to the blushes of “ the young person,” who will
probably (we tried it on two) get tired of Sir Martin Marr-all in
about a quarter of an hour, and. simply remark, as she lays down the
book and thanks you for nothing, “ I never read Moliere in the
original, but this must be a very bad translation.” We didn’t unde-
ceive that young person: it was John Dryden’s.
Then we tried the Plain Dealer on another student of the modern
Drama who knew nothing of William Wycherly except his name,
and he also thought it -was a poor translation of a play he had heard
a good deal about, and expressed his opinion that the entire collection,
in which he could never so far interest himself as to take more than
a cursory dip into it, was probably a lot of pieces that had been
refused by Managers. These standard Comedies are certainly not
light reading, ana without skilful condensation might be very heavy
acting.
Humber five of Professor More-and-MoR-LEY’s series is to be
Rabelais’ Gargantua and the Heroic Deeds of Pantagruel. The aid
of Professor Podsnap, and Drs. Bowdler and Barlow must surely be
invoked before Henry Sandford and Tommy Merton can take it
home and read it to Susan Sandford and Mary Merton. The
experienced Editor, however, has in his manifesto already declared
that he “intends to respect that change in the conventions of Society
which excludes now from our common acquaintance certain plain-
nesses of thought and speech once honestly meant, and honestly
allowed.” Plainnesses indeed! they are downright uglinesses,
deformities, spots on the Shakspearian sun, and'foul blots on the
fun and humour of the Dramatists of the Restoration.
“The use and beauty of old monuments,” says Professor More-
and-MoR-LEY, “ are, surely, separable from their dust and dirt.”
This, as a canon of literary and dramatic revival, seems to recom-
mend itself to public judgment, but in historical resuscitations, such.
LAYS OB A LAZY MIA7STEEL,
RAMBLING RONDEAUX.
Baveno.
Beneath the Vines, Hotel Belle Vue,
I ’m very certain I know who
Here loves to trifle, I’m afraid,
Or lounge upon the balustrade,
And watch the Lake’s oft changing hue.
’Tis sweet to dream the morning through,
While idle fancies we pursue,
To pleasant plash of passing blade—
Beneath the Vines!
I love to laze ; it’s very true,
1 love the sky’s supernal blue ;
To sit and smoke here in the shade,
And slake my thirst?with lemonade,
And dream away an hour or two—
Beneath the Vines!
Mr. Walford’s Handy Books arc very handy. Such
good titles too—only that Conservatives might call them
“ radically bad as, for instance, The Shilling Peerage,
the Shilling Baronetage and Knightage, and Shilling-
House of Commons. Perhaps, consule Chamberlaino,
when titles will be limited to Peeral Servitude for Life,
we shall have the Eourpenny Peerage, the Threepenny
Baronetage, the Twopenny Knightage (it’s dangerously
near this at present), and the House of Commons will be
thrown in; but this last depends on what Government
is “thrown out.” As for Knightage, at the present day
it might have a chapter to itself entitled, “Honours
Easy.'” _
A Vord oe Vaughaning.—At the Gloucester Festival
of the Three Choirs—very much the cheese this, Treble
Gloucester—Dr. Vaughan in his sermon told his audience
that an Oratorio in a Cathedral was the right thing in
the right place, and, said the Daily Telegraph's Corre-
spondent, “the weight of his (Dr. Vaughan’s) character
and office wnnt into the ri°ht scale.” Of course the
Special was a musician, hut he might have told us what
he considers the “ ripht scale.” Probably he would
reply, in this instance, “The scale of See (of Gloucester).”
That’s Major: and, if so, wouldn’t Dr. Vaughan have
all the Minor Canons against him ?
Con. eor Female Economists.—Would the prohibition
of tight-lacing be a violation of “freedom of contract"f
TABLES TURNED.
Poor Beggar. “Please spare a Penny, Sir. I haven’t had any Dinner
to-day 1 ” Swell. “ Paw Beggah ! ”
Poor Beggar. “I haven’t had a Meal since Yesterday, Sir!”
Swell. “ Paw Beggah ! ”
Poor Beggar. “I’vs got a Wife and Children, Sir, all starving!”
Swell. “Paw Beggah!”
Poor Beggar. “Please spare a Penny, Sir!”
Swell. “Haven’t got one—aw!” Poor Beggar. “Paw Beggah!”