Punch (89.1885)

October 30, 1885.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHAfUVAKl.

SUPER-HUMAN NATURE.

Sir,—-On my return to town, not having been inside a theatre,
Metropolitan, Provincial, or Continental, for the last two months—
nearer three, I fancy—I carefully^ searched the newspaper columns
for those modest Theatrical Advertisements, which are always so diffi-
cult to find, in order to ascertain what entertainment was likely to
afford me the greatest amount of intellectual recreation. I gathered
from the first announcement which stood at the top of a column, in
as bold relief against the white background as the figure of Nelson
at the top of his column stands out against the clear blue sky so
familiar to Londoners, that one of your own young men had been
commissioned to report on Messrs. Harris and Pettitt's melodrama

View (that is, as much as anyone will obtain) of Mr. Neville modestly mount-
ing his gallant steed in the presence of the Military Mushrooms.

at Drury Lane, and was quoted as saying that " The deservedly suc-
cessful Human Nature, the best of modern melodramas, is being
played nightly to overflowing audiences." This opinion would have
been quite sufficient to decide my choice, but the statement of fact
—as to "overflowing audiences "—made me hesitate.

So, after sliding down this column, and arriving at its base,
which, was formed of four solid Advertisements from four different
theatres,—namely, the Grand at Islington, the Surrey, the Standard,
and, of all places, the Theatre Royal, Brighton,—I had not yet come
across anything which could divert me from my purpose of seeing
"the best of modern melodramas."

I had not visited the Covent Garden Concerts to hear the " Fairie
Voices " of A. Crowe—Crows are not generally associated with fairy
voices, and so this would be a novelty ; a propos of Novelty, I had
not seen The Japs; nor, in England, had I seen the great ballet
Excelsior at Her Majesty's, which the Rev. Mr. Headlam, or Head
Lamb, wants his Head Shepherd, the Bishop of London, to witness,
when the event might be thus poetically recorded:—

The shades of night were falling fast,

"When out from Lambeth Palace passed
A Bishop, looking clean and nice,

"Who cried, I'm off where there's no vice,

" Excelsior!"

Parson Headlam wants his Bishop to visit also the Alhambra. If
so, will the Great Macdermott sing that jovial ditty, the chorus of

which ends with, '"Out
of the Gladstone bag ? "
Perhaps, if it has been
recently withdrawn, he
might consent to do so,
at the Rev. Mr. Head-
lam's special request.
The Vicar of IVakefield
at the Lyceum I saw
when it first came out,
so for The Mikado at the
Savoy, The Private Sec-
retary at the Globe, and
The Magistrate in his
own Court, four theatres
doing so well as to be
able to dispense, to a cer-
tain extent, with the aid
of newspaper advertise-
ments. On ' Change, at
I remember the German

A Shooting Party at Drury Lane.

Toole's, is not quite unknown to me, as
pieee and its American adaptation.

Mr. Comyns Carr's new play at the Haymarket, Dark Days,
I must defer till November, _ as being more in keeping with that
month, and then, below this advertisement, I came upon eight
paragraphs about Hoodman Blind at the Princess's Theatre. This
has been brought out in my absence (which souuds as if my permis-
sion ought first to have been obtained), and not having heard any-
thing about it, I thought I would read the " Opinions of the Press,"

which the Manager thinks it worth his while to publish, and the
critics worth theirs to write.

" As a picturesque and romantic Actor, Mr. "Wilson Barrett has
now no rival," says the autocrat " C. S." in the Illustrated London
News. How pleased Mr. W. B. must be to read this, and how nice
of " C. S." to put aside all comparison! "His acting rose to the
altitude of genius," shouts the critic of the Observer, and then falls
back in his chair and faints, overcome by the bare recollection of the
stupendous genius
of Mr. Wilson ~

Barrett. "And
equally notable,"
insists the critic
of the Standard,
not to be outdone
by the other gen-
tlemen, "was the
fire and passion of
his denunciation
of Lezzard, and,"
he adds, with a
burst of emotional
force which sends
him a long way
ahead of all his
fellow critics," the
infinite pathos of

his treatment of _

the crippled Mis* FmmBline Ormshy, emancipated from the Roman-
child " " Infinite t'c ^ruma at Princess's, enjoys herself immensely,
pathos! " This is to raise Wilson Barrett far above " the altitude
of genius," which was as high as the writer in the Observer could
manage to place him.

Samlet speaks of Yorick as " a fellow of infinite jest; " but this
is quite another matter. What does this Standard writer mean F
Does he think that "infinite" means no more than "utmost,"
and that "pathos" is a synonym for "tenderness"? I would
not suppose for an instant that he could be guilty of using " pathos "
for "passion," in the sense of " suffering" coupled with the epithet
"infinite," but will take it that, if he means anything at all, he
wishes the Public to understand that in ihis scene Mr. Wilson
Barrett is a man of infinite " vehemence," or of infinite " warmth,"
or of infinite "passion," or of infinite "affection of mind," or of
infinite "energy," or of infinite "capability for exciting the passions,"
—my authority for these interpretations being Dr. Johnson. Were
Mr. Wilson Barrett, as a matter of fact and. not by hyperbole, any
one of these, he would then be what Jeames de la Pluche was in Mary
Hann's opinion when she saw him " drest in full uniform on the day
of the levy," and exclaimed, " Ho, Jeames ! you are no longer mor-
tial, you are diwine! " So Mary Hann, witnessing Mr. Wilson
Barrett's performance in this particular scene, and writing
" subsquintly " to the Standard, would have said, " Mortial man
never hacted so bewtifle as he did.. Ho! wot hinfinnit paythus!
He were no longer mortial,
he were diwine." No ! I (l\

felt I was not worthy to 0 -vs)

contemplate the perform-
ance of the object of the
Standard critic's adora-
tion, the Transcendental

Being, capable of " infinite sSli Jt ^illk

pathos! " So, Sir, I joined 9
the overflowers at Drury IS §1

Lane, and am much of JnBmr < w \A ' .
your young man's opinion J y

with regard to the piece Hi V41l

called Tluman Nature. 1
am bound, however, to say
that I think the hero a
prig, a swaggerer, and a
cad,—butthenit is Human

Nature to be inconsistent. ^ |||

I have my doubts as to i

the legal points, but who

cares lor law where one cou]j possibly imagine from their

man Nature is concerned ? <imake „ ^ two -villains.

Thank goodness, Human r

Nature has to care fur Law occasionally, and obey it.

I consider the virtuous husband Mardyke very hardly used by the
Authors Messrs. Harris and Pettitt, as he must be hung for shootiDg
his wife, " extenuating circumstances" not being admissible in this
country. The Trafalgar Square crowd is a masterpiece of stage-
management, the scenic changes are highly ingenious and effective,
the First Act is capitally constructed, and the acting of the two
children, Frank and Dick (Miss Maud Fisher and Miss Katie
Barrt), is about as good as it can be. It was during their perform-

vol. t.ttxtx.