Chapter 15

We loved the limner whose gay funWas ever loyal to the Graces;Who mixed the mirth ofGilpin'srunWith willowy forms and winsome faces;Who made old nursery lyrics liveWith frolic force rejuvenated,And yet the sweetest girls could giveThat ever pencil-point created.FromBracebridge HalltoBanbury CrossHis fancy flew with fine facility.Orchards all apple-bloom and moss,Child sport, bucolical senility,The field full cry, snug fireside ease,Horse-fun, dog-joke his pencil covers,With Alderman and hawthorn trees,Parsons and Squires, and rustic lovers.

We loved the limner whose gay fun

Was ever loyal to the Graces;

Who mixed the mirth ofGilpin'srun

With willowy forms and winsome faces;

Who made old nursery lyrics live

With frolic force rejuvenated,

And yet the sweetest girls could give

That ever pencil-point created.

FromBracebridge HalltoBanbury CrossHis fancy flew with fine facility.Orchards all apple-bloom and moss,Child sport, bucolical senility,The field full cry, snug fireside ease,Horse-fun, dog-joke his pencil covers,With Alderman and hawthorn trees,Parsons and Squires, and rustic lovers.

FromBracebridge HalltoBanbury Cross

His fancy flew with fine facility.

Orchards all apple-bloom and moss,

Child sport, bucolical senility,

The field full cry, snug fireside ease,

Horse-fun, dog-joke his pencil covers,

With Alderman and hawthorn trees,

Parsons and Squires, and rustic lovers.

But in these yearsPunchhad little time to spare for praise; he was so busy belabouring Burne-Jones and Rossetti, the Grosvenor Gallery, the Kyrle Society, or new fashions in house decorations and furniture, in which he saw nothing but gloom and discomfort. The protest in 1879 of the three Slade Professors—Sidney Colvin, W. B. Richmond and Legros—against the critics who denied Burne-Jones genius and greatness on the strength of defective anatomical details, leftPunchimpenitent. He mocked at their "triune testimonial" as an unconvincing attempt to convert the callous and captious critics who,

Persisted in belabouring B.-J. with tongue and penWhilst Philistia looked on and laughed at those Three Mighty Men.

Persisted in belabouring B.-J. with tongue and pen

Whilst Philistia looked on and laughed at those Three Mighty Men.

Prigs and Philistines

Scene in a gallery.MODERN ÆSTHETICS(Ineffable Youth goes into ecstasies over an extremely Old Master—say, Fra Porcinello Babaragianno, A.D. 1266-1281?)Matter-of-fact Party: "But it's such a repulsivesubject!"Ineffable Youth: "'Subject' in art is of no moment! ThePicktchahis beautiful!"Matter-of-fact Party: "But you'll own theDrawing'svile, and theColour'sbeastly!"Ineffable Youth: "I'm Cullah-blind, and don't p'ofess to understand D'awing! ThePicktchahis beautiful!"Matter-of-fact Party(getting warm): "But it's all out ofPerspective, hang it, and so abominablyuntrue to Nature!"Ineffable Youth: "I don't care about Naytchah, and hate Perspective. ThePicktchahismostbeautiful!"Matter-of-fact Party(losing all self-control): "But, dash it all, man, where thedickensis thebeauty, then?"Ineffable Youth(quietly): "In the Picktchah!"Total defeat of Matter-of-fact Party.

MODERN ÆSTHETICS

(Ineffable Youth goes into ecstasies over an extremely Old Master—say, Fra Porcinello Babaragianno, A.D. 1266-1281?)

Matter-of-fact Party: "But it's such a repulsivesubject!"

Ineffable Youth: "'Subject' in art is of no moment! ThePicktchahis beautiful!"

Matter-of-fact Party: "But you'll own theDrawing'svile, and theColour'sbeastly!"

Ineffable Youth: "I'm Cullah-blind, and don't p'ofess to understand D'awing! ThePicktchahis beautiful!"

Matter-of-fact Party(getting warm): "But it's all out ofPerspective, hang it, and so abominablyuntrue to Nature!"

Ineffable Youth: "I don't care about Naytchah, and hate Perspective. ThePicktchahismostbeautiful!"

Matter-of-fact Party(losing all self-control): "But, dash it all, man, where thedickensis thebeauty, then?"

Ineffable Youth(quietly): "In the Picktchah!"

Total defeat of Matter-of-fact Party.

It is true thatPunchmakes some reservations in his "Moral":—

Critics are full of "cussedness," omniscience sometimes slips,And even triune Oracles may chance to miss their tips.

Critics are full of "cussedness," omniscience sometimes slips,

And even triune Oracles may chance to miss their tips.

But his sympathies undoubtedly remain with the critics, and he virtually identifies himself with Philistia in the plea of the Philistine in the following year:—

Take away all your adornments æsthetical,Plates of blue china and bits of sage green,Though you may call me a monster heretical,I can't consider them fit to be seen.Etchings and paintings I loathe and abominate,Grimly I smile at the name of Burne-Jones,Hating his pictures where big chins predominate—Over lean figures with angular bones.Buy me what grinning stage rustics call "farniture,"Such as was used by our fathers of old;Take away all your nonsensical garniture,Tapestry curtains and borders of gold,Give me the ancient and solid mahogany,Mine be the board that will need no repairs,Don't let me see, as I sit at my grog, anyChippendale tables or spindle-legged chairs.Hang up a vivid vermilion wall-paper,Covered with roses of gorgeous hue,Matching a varnished and beautiful hall-paper,Looking like marble so polished and new.Carpets should all show a floral variety,Wreaths intermingling of yellow and red;So, when it enters my home, will SocietySay, here's a house whence æsthetics have fled.

Take away all your adornments æsthetical,

Plates of blue china and bits of sage green,

Though you may call me a monster heretical,

I can't consider them fit to be seen.

Etchings and paintings I loathe and abominate,

Grimly I smile at the name of Burne-Jones,

Hating his pictures where big chins predominate—

Over lean figures with angular bones.

Buy me what grinning stage rustics call "farniture,"Such as was used by our fathers of old;Take away all your nonsensical garniture,Tapestry curtains and borders of gold,Give me the ancient and solid mahogany,Mine be the board that will need no repairs,Don't let me see, as I sit at my grog, anyChippendale tables or spindle-legged chairs.

Buy me what grinning stage rustics call "farniture,"

Such as was used by our fathers of old;

Take away all your nonsensical garniture,

Tapestry curtains and borders of gold,

Give me the ancient and solid mahogany,

Mine be the board that will need no repairs,

Don't let me see, as I sit at my grog, any

Chippendale tables or spindle-legged chairs.

Hang up a vivid vermilion wall-paper,Covered with roses of gorgeous hue,Matching a varnished and beautiful hall-paper,Looking like marble so polished and new.Carpets should all show a floral variety,Wreaths intermingling of yellow and red;So, when it enters my home, will SocietySay, here's a house whence æsthetics have fled.

Hang up a vivid vermilion wall-paper,

Covered with roses of gorgeous hue,

Matching a varnished and beautiful hall-paper,

Looking like marble so polished and new.

Carpets should all show a floral variety,

Wreaths intermingling of yellow and red;

So, when it enters my home, will Society

Say, here's a house whence æsthetics have fled.

Belabouring Burne-Jones

The "Lay of the Private View" at the Grosvenor Gallery in May, 1881, forms a useful supplement to Gilbert and Sullivan'sPatience, produced a fortnight before the verses appeared:—

The Grosvenor! the view that's called private,Yet all the world seems to be there;Each carriage that comes to arrive atThe door, makes the populace stare.There's Gladstone, severe of demeanour,It's plain that the pictures don't please;And there, with an aspect serener,Her Highness the Princess Louise.The Haunt of the very æsthetic,Here come the supremely intense,The long-haired and hyper-poeticWhose sound is mistaken for sense.And many a maiden will mutter,When Oscar looms large on her sight,"He's quite too consummately utter,As well as too utterly quite."

The Grosvenor! the view that's called private,

Yet all the world seems to be there;

Each carriage that comes to arrive at

The door, makes the populace stare.

There's Gladstone, severe of demeanour,

It's plain that the pictures don't please;

And there, with an aspect serener,

Her Highness the Princess Louise.

The Haunt of the very æsthetic,Here come the supremely intense,The long-haired and hyper-poeticWhose sound is mistaken for sense.And many a maiden will mutter,When Oscar looms large on her sight,"He's quite too consummately utter,As well as too utterly quite."

The Haunt of the very æsthetic,

Here come the supremely intense,

The long-haired and hyper-poetic

Whose sound is mistaken for sense.

And many a maiden will mutter,

When Oscar looms large on her sight,

"He's quite too consummately utter,

As well as too utterly quite."

Here's Whistler paints Miss Alexander,A portrait washed out as by rain;'Twill raise Ruskin's critical dander,To find James is at it again.The flesh-tints of Watts are quite comic;There's Herkomer's chaos of stones;But where is the great anatomicImprover on Nature, Burne-Jones?A Grosvenor without him so strange is,We miss the long chins and knock-knees,The angel of bronze, who for change isTied up to the stiffest of trees:Limp lads with theirbelli capelli,Mad maidens with love smitten sore,Oh, shade of defunct Botticelli,Burne-Jones comes to startle no more!

Here's Whistler paints Miss Alexander,

A portrait washed out as by rain;

'Twill raise Ruskin's critical dander,

To find James is at it again.

The flesh-tints of Watts are quite comic;

There's Herkomer's chaos of stones;

But where is the great anatomic

Improver on Nature, Burne-Jones?

A Grosvenor without him so strange is,We miss the long chins and knock-knees,The angel of bronze, who for change isTied up to the stiffest of trees:Limp lads with theirbelli capelli,Mad maidens with love smitten sore,Oh, shade of defunct Botticelli,Burne-Jones comes to startle no more!

A Grosvenor without him so strange is,

We miss the long chins and knock-knees,

The angel of bronze, who for change is

Tied up to the stiffest of trees:

Limp lads with theirbelli capelli,

Mad maidens with love smitten sore,

Oh, shade of defunct Botticelli,

Burne-Jones comes to startle no more!

I deal in another section with the fashionable cult of æstheticism, which was now at its zenith. In estimating its artistic importance,Puncherred in his refusal to discriminate between eccentricity and independence. He continued to "belabour B.-J.," and brackets him with Whistler in the ribald suggestion that they were jointly responsible for the pictures exhibited by the "Screevers" or pavement artists. Millais is congratulated on breaking away from Pre-Raphaelitism, and invidious comparisons are drawn in 1886 between his pictures and those of Holman Hunt:—

There couldn't be a better foil to the manliness of the Millais Show at the Grosvenor than the pseudo-mediæval-O-quite-too-beautiful-namby-pamby-gilt-edged-and-gothic-clasped-Church-service style of the effeminate religious Art of Mr. Holman Hunt. Millais tried it, and, after a struggle, snapped the Pre-Raphaelite fetters, and escaped.

Yet in the next two years Millais is criticized for sacrificing character to "prettiness" and desecrating his talent by placingit at the disposal of the advertiser. Watts's enigmatic "Hope" was "guyed" in 1887 under the title "Cutting off her head with a saw." The multifarious activities of Herkomer—painter, etcher, director of a school of art at Bushey, designer of posters, operatic composer, etc.—did not escapePunch'samused notice.Punchhimself, as might readily be expected, did not enjoy an immunity from art criticism. In 1883 he had congratulated Ruskin on his second election to the Slade Professorship at Oxford; at the end of the year Ruskin repaid the compliment, in his lectures on the Art of England, by a long detailed and in the main highly eulogistic survey ofPunch'sartistic work. But the panegyric was tempered by certain reserves:—

Says Mr. Ruskin, having before him in review one or two selected specimens ofMr. Punch'scartoons:—"Look, too, at this characteristic type of British heroism—'John Bull guards his pudding.' Is this the final outcome of King Arthur and Saint George, of Britannia and the British Lion? And is it your pride or hope or pleasure that in this sacred island that has given her lion hearts to Eastern tombs and her Pilgrim Fathers to Western lands, that has wrapped the sea round her as a mantle, and breathed against her strong bosom the air of every wind, the children born to her in these latter days should have no loftier legend to write upon their shields than 'John Bull guards his Pudding'?"And then Mr. Ruskin, as if conscious that the very onward sweep of his own free fancy has carried him beyond the limits of fair and reasonable estimate, as it were, harks somewhat back again, and offeringMr. Punchsomething in the nature of an apology, acquits him of all true responsibility for this same terrible and offending "pudding":—"It is our fault" (proceeds Mr. Ruskin) "and not the Artist's; and I have often wondered what Mr. Tenniel might have done for us if London had been as Venice, or Florence, or Siena. In my first course of Lectures I called your attention to the Picture of the Doge Mocenigo kneeling in prayer; and it is our fault more than Mr. Tenniel's if he is forced to represent the heads of the Government dining at Greenwich rather than worshipping at St. Paul's."

Says Mr. Ruskin, having before him in review one or two selected specimens ofMr. Punch'scartoons:—

"Look, too, at this characteristic type of British heroism—'John Bull guards his pudding.' Is this the final outcome of King Arthur and Saint George, of Britannia and the British Lion? And is it your pride or hope or pleasure that in this sacred island that has given her lion hearts to Eastern tombs and her Pilgrim Fathers to Western lands, that has wrapped the sea round her as a mantle, and breathed against her strong bosom the air of every wind, the children born to her in these latter days should have no loftier legend to write upon their shields than 'John Bull guards his Pudding'?"

And then Mr. Ruskin, as if conscious that the very onward sweep of his own free fancy has carried him beyond the limits of fair and reasonable estimate, as it were, harks somewhat back again, and offeringMr. Punchsomething in the nature of an apology, acquits him of all true responsibility for this same terrible and offending "pudding":—

"It is our fault" (proceeds Mr. Ruskin) "and not the Artist's; and I have often wondered what Mr. Tenniel might have done for us if London had been as Venice, or Florence, or Siena. In my first course of Lectures I called your attention to the Picture of the Doge Mocenigo kneeling in prayer; and it is our fault more than Mr. Tenniel's if he is forced to represent the heads of the Government dining at Greenwich rather than worshipping at St. Paul's."

Punch's Virtues as an Art Critic

Punchtook the criticism in good part, while declaring that he had found this commonplace nineteenth century and its humdrum materials pretty well suited to his purpose; and after indulging in a whimsical dialogue between the editor, GiovanniTennielo, and Ruskino in Venice, comes to the conclusion that after all the Queen of the Adriatic may have had even in her great days something less noble to lose than that condemned typical "pudding" which John Bull as yet has fortunately known how to guard. In this context I may add that in 1885Punchreprinted an advertisement in which a young man, seeking for a place, stated amongst his credentials that he could "paint and talk Ruskinesque."

Duke in discussion with an artist.WHAT PORTRAIT-PAINTING IS COMING TOThe Duke of Dilwater: "I—a—have taken the liberty of calling to say that I shall esteem myself highly honoured if you will be so very kind as to accept from me a Commission to paint my Portrait, at any time most convenient to yourself!"Fashionable Artist(after careful survey of His Grace's features): "You must excuse me, Duke, but I really can't. I—a—always choose my own Subjects now, you know, and I'm sorry to say that your Grace won't do!"

WHAT PORTRAIT-PAINTING IS COMING TO

The Duke of Dilwater: "I—a—have taken the liberty of calling to say that I shall esteem myself highly honoured if you will be so very kind as to accept from me a Commission to paint my Portrait, at any time most convenient to yourself!"

Fashionable Artist(after careful survey of His Grace's features): "You must excuse me, Duke, but I really can't. I—a—always choose my own Subjects now, you know, and I'm sorry to say that your Grace won't do!"

As I have not minimizedPunch'slimitations as an art critic, it is only fair to add that he was often sound and sometimes even acute. He said the right thing on theparvenuas art patron, and delicately hinted his approval of the independence of portrait painters. His appreciation of the strength of"Phiz" (Hablot K. Browne) as the illustrator of Dickens and Lever in helping us to visualize and fix certain types is excellently done, and generous admiration does not prevent him pointing out "Phiz's" weaknesses—his sketchiness, thin and skimpy style, and simpering mannerisms. This was said on the occasion of the show of "Phiz's" drawings in 1883 (the year after his death) whichPunchrecommended to "genial Middle-age with memories and unpriggish Youth without hyperæsthetic prejudices."

Nothing could be better in its way, again, than the castigation of the "slick" and deliberate eccentricities of Jan Van Beers in 1886.Punchadmits the Dutch artist's talent, his capacity for higher work, proved in historical paintings, and then sets to work to wield the lash:—

Popinjay Art is plentiful enough. It is the trick whereby mediocrity antics itself into a sort of notoriety, and cynical cleverness indolently plays the fool with an easily humbugged public. It is probably calculated—perhaps with some reason—that these stagey tricks, and limelight effects, and dismal draperies, and bogey surprises, and peep-show horrors will perplex people into a foolish wonder, if not into an impossible enjoyment or an honest approval. Maybe that is all which is aimed at? But what an aim for anything calling itself Art!Posturing Pierrots and smirking skeletons, goggling sphinxes and giggling cocottes, cadaverous surprises and ensanguined startlers, all the parade of nightmare and nastiness, pall upon the mind, as the phantasmagoric effects and sickly scents do upon the senses, of the visitors to the Salon Parisien. Whim and fantasy are all very delightful in their way. But this is not Wonderland, it is the world of drunken delirium and the Witches' Sabbath. A girl with emerald face, purple hair, and vivid vermilion lips, peeping between amber portières, is an inoffensive though purposeless, and not very interesting bizarrerie. But such gratuitous ghastlinesses as "Will o' the Wisp," "Felo de se," "Vive la Mort!" and particularly the offensively named "Ecce Homo," are simply revolting horrors. Somebody has hazarded the statement that they are Edgar-Poe-ish. Pooh! Poe was creepy sometimes, but he was an artist, an idealist, subordinating even occasional horror to the beautiful in his daring dreams.

Posturing Pierrots and smirking skeletons, goggling sphinxes and giggling cocottes, cadaverous surprises and ensanguined startlers, all the parade of nightmare and nastiness, pall upon the mind, as the phantasmagoric effects and sickly scents do upon the senses, of the visitors to the Salon Parisien. Whim and fantasy are all very delightful in their way. But this is not Wonderland, it is the world of drunken delirium and the Witches' Sabbath. A girl with emerald face, purple hair, and vivid vermilion lips, peeping between amber portières, is an inoffensive though purposeless, and not very interesting bizarrerie. But such gratuitous ghastlinesses as "Will o' the Wisp," "Felo de se," "Vive la Mort!" and particularly the offensively named "Ecce Homo," are simply revolting horrors. Somebody has hazarded the statement that they are Edgar-Poe-ish. Pooh! Poe was creepy sometimes, but he was an artist, an idealist, subordinating even occasional horror to the beautiful in his daring dreams.

Parents with artist son.A FORTIORIPhilistine Father: "Why the dickens don't you paint something like Frith's 'Derby Day'—something everybody can understand, and somebody buy?"Young Genius: "Everybody understand, indeed! Art is for the few, Father, and the higher the art, of course, the fewer the few. The highest art of all is forone. That art is mine. Thatoneis—myself!"Fond Mamma: "There speaks my own brave boy!"

A FORTIORI

Philistine Father: "Why the dickens don't you paint something like Frith's 'Derby Day'—something everybody can understand, and somebody buy?"

Young Genius: "Everybody understand, indeed! Art is for the few, Father, and the higher the art, of course, the fewer the few. The highest art of all is forone. That art is mine. Thatoneis—myself!"

Fond Mamma: "There speaks my own brave boy!"

Impartial Satire

As a rôlePunchwas a strong partisan in art; yet on occasion he could hold the balance. I have illustrated the changein his view of Whistler, but it never degenerated into abuse. The dialogue, "Wrestling with Whistler," suggested by the exhibition at the Goupil Gallery in the spring of 1892, impartially satirizes Whistlerites, frank Philistines, and the literal and prosaic persons who were puzzled and bewildered by "arrangements," "harmonies," "symphonies" and "nocturnes." These simple souls, unable to recognize the objects depicted, were not helped by the faithful who retorted, "Ah, but it's the way he saw it!" To-day, as thirty years ago, their point of view is faithfully expressed in the unconscious irony of the serious elderly lady:

I've no patience with the man. Look at Gustave Doré now. I'm surehewas a beautiful artist if youlike. Didhego and call his "Leaving the Prætorium" a "Symphony" or a "Harmony," or any nonsense of that kind? Of course not—and yet look at thedifference!

It is true that the artist, like the prophet, is often "not without honour save in his own country and in his own house." The saying happily does not apply toPunchand his contributors. When Richard Doyle died in 1883, more than thirty years had elapsed since he severed his connexion with the paper, butPunchhad never forgotten the old comrade who had designed his cover, and had been equally at home among the imps of Elfland and the swells and snobs of society:—

Turning o'er his own past pages,Punch, with tearful smile, can traceThat fine talent's various stages,Caustic satire, gentle grace,Feats and freaks of Cockney funny—Brown, and Jones, and Robinson;And, huge hive of Humour's honey,Quaint quintessence of rich fun,Coming fresh as June-breeze briaryWith old memories of our youth—Thrice immortal Pips's Diary!Masterpiece of Mirth and Truth!

Turning o'er his own past pages,

Punch, with tearful smile, can trace

That fine talent's various stages,

Caustic satire, gentle grace,

Feats and freaks of Cockney funny—

Brown, and Jones, and Robinson;

And, huge hive of Humour's honey,

Quaint quintessence of rich fun,

Coming fresh as June-breeze briary

With old memories of our youth—

Thrice immortal Pips's Diary!

Masterpiece of Mirth and Truth!

Personally I should invert the epithet "thrice immortal" and apply it to the "Continental Tour of Brown, Jones and Robinson"; otherwise the verses are a well merited tribute to the winged fancy and graceful humour of "Dicky Doyle." Charles Keene's death in January, 1891, removed another good comrade whose association with the paper was unbroken up to his last illness, and was one of the chief if not the greatest of its artistic glories:—

Frank, loyal, unobtrusive, simple-hearted,Loving his book, his pipe, his song, his friend,Peaceful he lived and peacefully departed,A gentle life-course, with a gracious end.

Frank, loyal, unobtrusive, simple-hearted,

Loving his book, his pipe, his song, his friend,

Peaceful he lived and peacefully departed,

A gentle life-course, with a gracious end.

Ruskin on Leech

So much for the man; as for the artist,Punchwas hardly overstating the case when he claimed that the exhibition ofKeene's work in the following May stood for the supreme triumph of black and white in the achievements of its greatest master.

Ruskin, in the lecture noted above, had described Leech's work as containing "the finest definition and natural history of the classes of our society, the kindest and subtlest analysis of its foibles, the tenderest flattery of its pretty and well-bred ways, with which the modesty of subservient genius ever immortalized or amused careless masters." Small wonder was it, then, thatPunchappealed for greater generosity to John Leech's three surviving sisters. Their combined pensions only amounted to £180—a "dole" which lent point to the dramatic dialogues in 1881 between a Minister and a Celebrity and (after the Celebrity's death) between the Minister and his Secretary, as a result of which the former decides to give the orphan daughter £50.

The cult of Japanese art in the late 'eighties furnishedPunch'sartists with new formulas and new methods of treating Parliamentary scenes. It also inspired the following ingenious adaptation of a famous phrase:—

Madame Roland Re-Edited (from a sham Japanese point of view): O Liberty! what strange (decorative) things are done in thy name!

Punchhad reproached Millais for condescending to the "pretty-pretty" style, but in 1888 he was moved to caricature the modern fear of the same tendency—a fear destined to dominate so much of modern art in later years and to enthrone the Golliwog in the nursery.

DRAMA, OPERA AND MUSIC

Punchwas mixed up with the drama from the very beginning. He drew his name and his initial inspiration from a puppet-show; all four editors who held the office between 1841 and 1892 were playwrights—three of them, Mark Lemon, Tom Taylor and Burnand prolific playwrights—and many of his leading contributors from Douglas Jerrold onwards owed a double allegiance to journalism and the drama. In these circumstancesone can hardly expect to find inPunch'scopious references to plays and players an entirely judicial or dispassionate critical attitude. Yet when all deductions have been made on the score of old loyalties, partisanship and even prejudice, his record, during the period which opened with the visits of Salvini and ended with Tree's Hamlet and the tyranny of "Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay," shows a creditable readiness to acclaim fresh talent and to applaud a good thing irrespective of its origin. We find a certain amount of resentment against the adulation of foreigners, but his patriotism in this respect is untainted by any Chauvinism—witness his "Salvo to Salvini" in 1875:—

Punchis rejoiced to see that a representative body of the London Actors lately made express application to the great Italian Player, now displaying his art for London's behoof, to give a morning performance ofOthello, at which they could be present. Salvini answered the application with an Italian's courtesy, and an artist's feeling with his fellows. Remembering how, whenPunchwas young, an illiterate English mob once howled and hooted a French company from the stage of Drury Lane, and how, when the noblest Actor of his generation, William Macready, published a protest against the cowardly outrage, in which he associated his brother Actors with himself, a large body of those Actors disclaimed such association, and denied William Macready's right to speak for more than William Macready—Punchcannot but rejoice in the present indication of a larger and less "parochial" spirit of appreciation.The actors who had the good fortune to see Salvini on Monday have seen a great artist, in the ideal sense of the word—one whose art "in the very storm and whirlwind of his passion, can beget a temperance that gives it smoothness"; whose voice keeps its music even in rage or agony, and whose action can be graceful, even in its moments of utmost vehemence; and this without forfeiture of force, or sacrifice of truth. It is of secondary importance whether or not those who hear Salvini understand Italian. They are sure to know the text ofOthello; and Salvini's look, tone, and gesture speak the universal language.Salvini, Ristori, BernhardtThey must have marked the breadth and calmness of his style, the self-restraint that never betrays effort, and the grandeur resulting from this element of large effect. They will have seen how superior to points and petty tricks and clap-traps he is from first to last; how completely the Moor, steeped at first in the stately Oriental calm that almost looks like languor, till love lights in his eye andmantles in his face, or doubt begins to torture, and sense of wrong gathers and glows to fury, and a rage, far more terrible and unsparing than a wild beast's, works to madness in his brain.

The actors who had the good fortune to see Salvini on Monday have seen a great artist, in the ideal sense of the word—one whose art "in the very storm and whirlwind of his passion, can beget a temperance that gives it smoothness"; whose voice keeps its music even in rage or agony, and whose action can be graceful, even in its moments of utmost vehemence; and this without forfeiture of force, or sacrifice of truth. It is of secondary importance whether or not those who hear Salvini understand Italian. They are sure to know the text ofOthello; and Salvini's look, tone, and gesture speak the universal language.

Salvini, Ristori, Bernhardt

They must have marked the breadth and calmness of his style, the self-restraint that never betrays effort, and the grandeur resulting from this element of large effect. They will have seen how superior to points and petty tricks and clap-traps he is from first to last; how completely the Moor, steeped at first in the stately Oriental calm that almost looks like languor, till love lights in his eye andmantles in his face, or doubt begins to torture, and sense of wrong gathers and glows to fury, and a rage, far more terrible and unsparing than a wild beast's, works to madness in his brain.

The over-vehemence of Othello's final agony is deprecated, butPunchconcludes by recommending all "who wish to know the highest expression of ideal tragic acting to see this famous Italian actor."

As he had welcomed another glory of Italian art in Ristori, so he yielded to the versatile enchantments of the "divine Sarah" in her frequent visits to our shores. The following tribute dates from 1879:—

TO SARAH!

(By an exuberant Enthusiast)

Mistress of Hearts and Arts, all met in youThe Picturesque, informed by Soul of Passion!Say, dost thou feed on milk and honey-dew,Draining from goblets deep of classic fashionChampagne and nectar, shandy-gaff sublime,Dashed with a pungent smack ofeau-de-Marah,Aspasia, Sappho, Circé of the time?Seductive Sarah!"Muse"? All Mnemosyne's bright brood in one!Compound of Psyché, Phryné, Britomarté,Ruler of storm and calm, EuroclydonAnd Zephyr! Slender Syrian Astarté!With voice the soul of music, like that harpWhich whilom sounded in the Hall of Tara.How dare Philistines at thy whimsies carp,Soul-swaying Sarah!!"Poseuse"? Pooh! pooh! Yet who so wellcanposeAs thou, sweet statuesque slim sinuosity?"Stagey"? Absurd! "The death's-head and the rose"?Delicious! Gives the touch of tenebrosityThat lifts thee to the Lamia level. Oh!Shame on the dolts who hint of Dulcamara,A proposoflevéeand picture-show,Serpentine Sarah!!!

Mistress of Hearts and Arts, all met in you

The Picturesque, informed by Soul of Passion!

Say, dost thou feed on milk and honey-dew,

Draining from goblets deep of classic fashion

Champagne and nectar, shandy-gaff sublime,

Dashed with a pungent smack ofeau-de-Marah,

Aspasia, Sappho, Circé of the time?

Seductive Sarah!

"Muse"? All Mnemosyne's bright brood in one!Compound of Psyché, Phryné, Britomarté,Ruler of storm and calm, EuroclydonAnd Zephyr! Slender Syrian Astarté!With voice the soul of music, like that harpWhich whilom sounded in the Hall of Tara.How dare Philistines at thy whimsies carp,Soul-swaying Sarah!!

"Muse"? All Mnemosyne's bright brood in one!

Compound of Psyché, Phryné, Britomarté,

Ruler of storm and calm, Euroclydon

And Zephyr! Slender Syrian Astarté!

With voice the soul of music, like that harp

Which whilom sounded in the Hall of Tara.

How dare Philistines at thy whimsies carp,

Soul-swaying Sarah!!

"Poseuse"? Pooh! pooh! Yet who so wellcanposeAs thou, sweet statuesque slim sinuosity?"Stagey"? Absurd! "The death's-head and the rose"?Delicious! Gives the touch of tenebrosityThat lifts thee to the Lamia level. Oh!Shame on the dolts who hint of Dulcamara,A proposoflevéeand picture-show,Serpentine Sarah!!!

"Poseuse"? Pooh! pooh! Yet who so wellcanpose

As thou, sweet statuesque slim sinuosity?

"Stagey"? Absurd! "The death's-head and the rose"?

Delicious! Gives the touch of tenebrosity

That lifts thee to the Lamia level. Oh!

Shame on the dolts who hint of Dulcamara,

A proposoflevéeand picture-show,

Serpentine Sarah!!!

O idol of the hour and of my heart!Who calls thee crazy, half, and half-capricious?A compound ofLionne's[12]and Barnum's part,Inoutrecuidancerather injudicious?Ah! heed them not! Play, scribble, sculp, sing, paint,Pose as a Plastic-Proteus,mia cara;Sapphic, seraphic, quintessential, quaint,SémillanteSarah!!!!

O idol of the hour and of my heart!

Who calls thee crazy, half, and half-capricious?

A compound ofLionne's[12]and Barnum's part,

Inoutrecuidancerather injudicious?

Ah! heed them not! Play, scribble, sculp, sing, paint,

Pose as a Plastic-Proteus,mia cara;

Sapphic, seraphic, quintessential, quaint,

SémillanteSarah!!!!

"Pierrot à Londres"

Two critics extoling Sarah.THE DIVINE SARAH(For whose sake we've all gone wrong)First Critic(ætat. 21): "Beats Rachel hollow inOng-Dromack, hanged if she don't!"Second Critic(ditto): "SoIthink, Old man! And inL'Etrong-jairshe licks Mademoiselle Mars all to fits!"

THE DIVINE SARAH

(For whose sake we've all gone wrong)

First Critic(ætat. 21): "Beats Rachel hollow inOng-Dromack, hanged if she don't!"

Second Critic(ditto): "SoIthink, Old man! And inL'Etrong-jairshe licks Mademoiselle Mars all to fits!"

This is enthusiasm at high-water mark, though the note of irony is not absent. Admiration, appreciation, or criticism never lacking in friendliness mark the notices of other visitorsfrom the Old or the New World—the Dutch actors from Rotterdam in 1879 whose performance inAnne MieimpelledPunchto rewrite Canning's dispatch:—

In matters dramatic the charms of the DutchAre perfectensembleand sharpness of touch;

In matters dramatic the charms of the Dutch

Are perfectensembleand sharpness of touch;

Lady speaking with man.INANITIES OF THE DRAWING-ROOM"Seen theEnfant Prodigue, Mr. Softy?""No; waiting till they do it inEnglish!"

INANITIES OF THE DRAWING-ROOM

"Seen theEnfant Prodigue, Mr. Softy?"

"No; waiting till they do it inEnglish!"

Modjeska, "a charming and consummate actress" in 1880; the German Shakespearean actors at Drury Lane in 1881; Mary Anderson in 1883; Coquelin in 1887; and Mlle. Jane May inL'Enfant Prodigue, that delightful pioneer dumb-show play which promptedPunchto exclaim in 1891, "Vive Pierrot à Londres!" with the Victoriancaveat"but not a play for children."Punch'sviews on the transplantation of foreign products were never expressed more frankly or wisely than in his comments on the abortive attempt made by Mr. Wybrow Robertson to present selected tableaux from the Ober-Ammergau Passion Play at the Westminster Aquarium in 1879. The announcementof the withdrawal of the scheme was followed by a statement that no native of Ober-Ammergau had anything to do with it, which gavePunchhis cue:—

It is a comfort that one set of people come well out of the mess—the worthy, simple and pious peasants of the Ober-Ammergau, for whom the performance of their Passion Play is a religious solemnity, in performance of a vow made in 1633, when their village was ravaged by a pestilence. When the performance of Passion Plays was interdicted in Bavaria in 1779, this one was specially excepted, as being under the superintendence of the monks of Ettal, hard by, and, besides, in fulfilment of a vow.But if the institution of the play stayed the pestilence in 1633 (as these simple Ober-Ammergauers believe), its continuance may introduce a new pestilence in 1880, should it bring on Ober-Ammergau, as yet pure and simple, the plague of speculating Managers to tempt the village Actors, as well as of Cook's tourists and cosmopolitan audiences, to poison the village life with greed of gain, and take the sanctity of simple faith from this Passion Play, so turning it—as there is already fear it has begun to be turned—into a show which, in becoming popular, must become profane.

But if the institution of the play stayed the pestilence in 1633 (as these simple Ober-Ammergauers believe), its continuance may introduce a new pestilence in 1880, should it bring on Ober-Ammergau, as yet pure and simple, the plague of speculating Managers to tempt the village Actors, as well as of Cook's tourists and cosmopolitan audiences, to poison the village life with greed of gain, and take the sanctity of simple faith from this Passion Play, so turning it—as there is already fear it has begun to be turned—into a show which, in becoming popular, must become profane.

The long and consistently hostile campaign whichPunchconducted against Ibsen and the Ibsen plays shows him in a much less favourable light and on precarious ground. It was open to him to pronounce Ibsen dreary, disagreeable and didactic; some of his plays were fair game for the parodist and the opportunity was turned to excellent account. But the long and acrimonious tirade against the Ibsenites and their "Arch or Archer-priest" in 1891 is seriously weakened by the writer's confession that his knowledge of the Ibsen plays was confined to perusal of "several of them"—that he had never seen one of them on the stage; and his challenge to the Ibsen-worshippers to test the merits of their idol by a single performance at a London theatre was rash, to say the least of it.

Actors and Society

Turning to native drama, one cannot avoid noticing thatPunch, who had followed Irving's career with interest and sympathy from its modest beginnings in farce and comedy, became increasingly critical of his later ventures. He is pronounced physically unsuited to the part of Macbeth in 1875, andPunchdid not fail to fasten on the vulnerable pointsin his Romeo in 1882. In the same year Irving is especially blamed for his resort to the "benefit" performance system, and his defence is pronounced unconvincing in an article ingeniously headed, "The Doubt of the Benefit," in which Irving is described as "an admirable Comedian, an occasionally impressive Tragedian, a nervously painstaking Actor, and, generally, an indifferent Elocutionist." ButPunchhad indulged in even more caustic criticism of the popular actor-manager in the previous year,à proposof an address delivered at Edinburgh:—

Again the sickening cry is raised about the "social status of the Actor," and this timeà proposof a paper read by Mr. Henry Irving, at a Philosophical Institution known as The Music Hall in Edinburgh. The social status of the Actor is that of a well-fed, well-clothed, well-paid—perhaps over-paid—worker in a curious profession. If he be amusing and intelligent, and behaves like a gentleman, he is exceptionally favoured by what is called "Society"; as most people, except a few fanatics, are interested in the world behind the footlights. But every Actor is not necessarily amusing, intelligent, and gentlemanly, and these are the people, probably, who are a little uneasy about their status. If they are not content with their pudding, the world is all before them. On the other hand, the more favoured ones are a little apt to be spoiled by injudicious patronage. "Society" is a little too ready to treat them like pet poodles.Why on earth does Mr. Irving yearn for the companionship of Bishops? Does he want to convert them all to Irvingism, and to come and listen to him discoursing Shakespearean Inspirations in Unknown Tongues? Does he require Church Patronage for the Stage, and his Theatre Stalls filled as those of a Cathedral are with Prebends, Minor Canons and Greater Guns of the Ecclesiastical Establishment? Is it the height of an Actor's ambition to swell the crowd of distinguished Nobodies at the Duchess of Mountrouge's reception, or to appear as a great attraction of Lady Doubtful's Assemblies, and to be able to exhibit cards of fashionable "At Homes" in the mirror which is held up to Nature over his mantelpiece?Elevation of the Stage forsooth! We should have thought that the Stage had elevated Mr. Irving above all such twaddle as this."Act well your part, there all the honour lies."Be satisfied with this: Live for your Art, not for that limited, narrow, uncharitable, scandalmongering section of the great publicwhich calls itself "Society," and which loves to patronize Art in any form at the least possible cost to itself.

Why on earth does Mr. Irving yearn for the companionship of Bishops? Does he want to convert them all to Irvingism, and to come and listen to him discoursing Shakespearean Inspirations in Unknown Tongues? Does he require Church Patronage for the Stage, and his Theatre Stalls filled as those of a Cathedral are with Prebends, Minor Canons and Greater Guns of the Ecclesiastical Establishment? Is it the height of an Actor's ambition to swell the crowd of distinguished Nobodies at the Duchess of Mountrouge's reception, or to appear as a great attraction of Lady Doubtful's Assemblies, and to be able to exhibit cards of fashionable "At Homes" in the mirror which is held up to Nature over his mantelpiece?

Elevation of the Stage forsooth! We should have thought that the Stage had elevated Mr. Irving above all such twaddle as this.

"Act well your part, there all the honour lies."

Be satisfied with this: Live for your Art, not for that limited, narrow, uncharitable, scandalmongering section of the great publicwhich calls itself "Society," and which loves to patronize Art in any form at the least possible cost to itself.

Even harsher is the rebuke administered three weeks later to Irving for his self-laudatory speeches, and the unnecessary autobiographical reminiscences in which he contrasted his present with his past earnings, thus creating a false impression of one who was in reality the most generous of men. The petting of actors by society appealed toPunchno more than the invasion of the stage by amateurs; he regarded such favouritism as ministering to their worst infirmity, vanity; and in 1884 he fell foul of Mrs. Kendal's speech at the Social Science Congress on the social position of actors, in which she reprobated self-advertisement (Satan rebuking Sin, according to her critic), but claimed a recognition whichPunchdenounced as mere snobbishness. Of Ellen Terry, who was associated with Irving at the Lyceum from 1878,Punchremained the affectionate and benevolent admirer, though he admitted that her conception of Lady Macbeth in 1889 raised a good deal of legitimate criticism. The lavish mounting of the Lyceum revivals, I may add, exercisedPunch'sfrugal mind, and reached a climax in the production ofHenry VIIIin 1892.

Group of men discussing another talking to ladies.THE NEW CRAZEScene—The Green-Room of the Parthenon, before rehearsal.Hard-working Baronet: "Here's the Duke, confound him! Only been six months on the stage, and getting twenty guineas a week!"Conscientious Viscount: "Yes, and us only getting six after ten years of it. I hate these beastly Dukes coming and spoiling the profession!"Ambitious Earl: "Ugh! I hate all amateurs, hang 'em, taking the bread out of one's mouth!"

THE NEW CRAZE

Scene—The Green-Room of the Parthenon, before rehearsal.

Hard-working Baronet: "Here's the Duke, confound him! Only been six months on the stage, and getting twenty guineas a week!"

Conscientious Viscount: "Yes, and us only getting six after ten years of it. I hate these beastly Dukes coming and spoiling the profession!"

Ambitious Earl: "Ugh! I hate all amateurs, hang 'em, taking the bread out of one's mouth!"

Idols of the 'Eighties

Punch, as I have so often insisted, was a Londoner first and foremost, but he did not exclude the provinces from his survey. The opening of the Shakespeare Memorial Theatre at Stratford-on-Avon in 1879 was a landmark in the history of the legitimate drama, andPunchdid not fail to acknowledge the strenuous local labour and large local liberality which had carried to completion a worthy scheme for commemorating the most memorable work ever wrought by mortal brain. It was in the same year, again, thatPunchrecorded with sympathy and admiration the memorial performances given at Manchester for the benefit of the widow and family of Charles Calvert, the actor-manager "who did more for the elevation and development of the higher drama, historical and imaginative, than any provincial manager on record, and than any metropolitan managers, except Macready, Charles Kean and Phelps." Phelps and Charles Mathews had both died in 1878, and Buckstone in 1879. Mrs. Langtry, who had taken to the stage, is advisedto give up acting in 1882. In 1883 Mr. Anstey Guthrie's immortalVice Versâwas dramatized and produced with Mr. Charles Hawtrey as Mr. Bultitude. The evergreen veterans of to-day were already advancing in fame and popularity. Sir Johnston Forbes Robertson had appeared as Romeo in 1881. In 1884 the late Mr. Wilson Barrett, encouraged by his successes in melodrama, essayed the rôle of Hamlet.Punchmaliciously embodies his criticisms in a letter to Irving, then touring in America, but the general tenor of his remarks is decidedly reassuring to Irving. The long run ofOur Boysin 1877 was equalled and eclipsed, after an initial failure, by the prodigious popularity ofThe Private Secretary, also in 1884. Lady Bancroft died only the other day; Sir Squire is still hale and hearty. Yet it is thirty-six years ago since they resolved,while still at the zenith of their popularity and in early middle age, to quit the scenes of their many triumphs, andPunch, in his notice of their farewell performance, says no more than the strict truth:—

The Bancrofts have done much for the Stage; in fact, themise-en-scèneat the houses where Comedy is played, owes its present completeness entirely to them. They, and Mr. Hare with them, introduced the natural style of acting, thereby supplanting the theatrical tone and gestures of the old school, which Burlesques had done good service in laughing off our Stage for ever.

The performance at Cambridge of theEumenidesby "Messrs. Æschylus and Verrall" in the same year is handled in a vein of friendly facetiousness.Punchfound Sir Charles Stanford's music rather more than worthy of the occasion, but thinks Æschylus and his very clever collaborator might have shown more common sense and allowance for modern feeling.

Punchwas less considerate in his treatment of the performance of Shelley'sCenciby the Shelley Society which had been founded by "a Dr. Furnivall," the scholar and redoubtable controversialist whomPunchhad already attacked in connexion with the Browning Society. The performance was described by a member of the society as four hours of monotonous horror:—

"The actors and actresses in the labour of love did all that could be done; but the play is proved to be impossible, and so let us leave it in the hope (shared by many of my fellow-members) that before another 'sixty years' it will be possible to debate the matter calmly, butnotto put 'The Cenci' on the Stage."

Punchwas less hopeful. He regarded "the literary disease of which the Shelley Society may be regarded as an exemplar" as an ineradicable malady.

"L'Assommoir" in French and English

Sir Frank Benson's productions ofA Midsummer Night's DreamandThe Taming of the Shrewin 1890 come in for more commendation of the scenic effects than the acting, but a favourable exception is made in favour of the late Stephen Phillips, afterwards better known as poet and dramatist.Punch'snotice of the late Sir Herbert Tree's Hamlet in the summer of 1892is a good specimen of discreetly veiled disparagement. But it does not quite accord with Gilbert's famous description, "funny without being vulgar," asPunchconsidered some of the new readings and by-play to be tasteless and grotesque. It was this production that gave rise to that "desperate saying" that to solve the Bacon-Shakespeare controversy, all that was necessary was to let Tree play Hamlet and then open the two graves and see which of the mighty dead had turned.

It would be tedious to enumerate all the references to actors and plays, famous or forgotten, which crowd the pages ofPunchin this period; to quote them in full would be impossible. Toole was one of his favourites. Boucicault was not, and excites satirical comment for having written a letter to Disraeli in 1876, puffing his own playThe Shaughraun. A little earlier The Great Vance—immortalized in Stevenson'sWrong Box—the "lion comique" of the music-halls, is rapped over the knuckles for advertising his performances as "patronized by the Prince and Princess of Wales."Punch'snotice of Zola'sL'Assommoirwhen he saw it in Paris in May, 1879, reflects a divided mind. He found it fascinating and intolerable. Gil-Naza's acting as Coupeau was "wonderful, fearful, admirable, awful, infernal." Yet "the moral to most of those who assisted, the other evening, atL'Assommoirwas, 'I say! Dash it! It's too horrible! Let's go and drink!' and the biggest drink I've had for a long time—much needed, I assure you—was after seeingL'Assommoir."Punchdoubts whether the play could ever be done in English, but it was produced at the Princess's Theatre only a few weeks later in Charles Reade's version, with Charles Warner as Coupeau. The notice inPunchpurports to be written by a working man, who signs himself "one as is a-thinking seriously of Taking the Pledge, but don't see his Way to it yet." He acknowledges the terrible realism of Warner's acting, but his testimonial is invalidated by the final sentences:—

Yes, Sir,Drinkis a moral drama if ever there was one. It ought to do a deal of good. And as I think it over, I feel as I want a little something just to take the taste on it out o' my mouth.

Punchclearly did not believe in temperance propaganda onthe stage. Nor did he support the restriction of child performers, maintaining in 1880 that the theatres at Christmas time were admirable infant schools; "even for teaching," he was "open to back the Theatre, while it lasts, against the Board School any day." There was much talk at this time about dramatic schools, butPunchrefused to take the movement seriously, preferring to give a burlesque list of lectures by well-known actresses on aspects of acting entirely foreign to their own styles. He joined in the protest against the abolition of the pit at the Haymarket and the general raising of prices in the same year; and Captain Shaw's Treatise on Fires in Theatres found in him an energetic supporter of reform in respect of structural and other safeguards. Laments over the degeneracy of pantomime and the decline of the red-hot poker business still occur, but honourable exception is invariably made on behalf of the famous Vokes family. He had at an early date described the Drury Lane pantomime as "Vokes et præterea nihil."Bluebeard, at Christmas, 1879, is called "Vokes's Entire." "The family is a necessity at Drury Lane"; and thenPunchgoes on to embroider his text. Necessity has no Legs, but here the Vokes family have the pull over the Mother of Invention—alluding to the high-kicking exploits of Fred Vokes and other members of that engaging and high-spirited family. If pantomime showed signs of decay, the "sacred lamp of Burlesque" was burning brightly at the Gaiety with John Hollingshead as Lampadephoros and the famous quartet—Nellie Farren, Kate Vaughan, Edward Terry and Royce—as his chief hierophants. Miss Vaughan's secession in 1883, chronicled in a graceful tribute, rendered possible the historic question from the bench, "Who is Miss Connie Gilchrist?" but by 1892 she too had quitted the Gaiety to add histrionic lustre to the pages of Debrett. In 1883 Miss Vesta Tilley was playing in pantomime at Drury Lane; in 1884 Mrs. John Wood was singing "His Heartwastrue to Poll"; in 1886 the inauguration of the O.U.D.S. at Oxford introduced Mr. Bourchier as Feste inTwelfth Night; in 1887Punchrecords thedébutof Miss Violet Vanbrugh.

More Gibes at Ibsen

Ibsen'sPillars of Society, produced at a matinée in July,1888, is compared by Punch with a melodrama performed at the "Old Vic" before it became "a sort of frisky Coffee Palace," very much to the disadvantage of Ibsen. In the old play the dialogue was crisp and to the point, in the new it was "hopelessly dull."Punchadds that Mr. William Archer's translation seemed excellent, adding, "But what a pity he ever learned Norwegian!" Ada Rehan, the famous Irish-American actress, made her first appearance in London with Daly's company in the summer of 1890, butPunch, while delighted by her charming vivacity, thought she was already too old to playingénueparts. Her successes in Shakespearean comedy were to come later.

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