Fawcett a great name under other environing conditions of time and place. In simpler words, if Mr. Fawcett had produced the story twenty years ago in either Paris or London, he would have become famous. Yet this work will sink into oblivion, while

Dr. Jykll," and other novels far less worthy of being perpetuated, are being accepted into popular favor so enthusiastically as to presage a long and healthy life. Mr. Fawcett's conception has been copied into several recent English novels almost wholesale, and it has been badly treated. Mr. Fawcett, in "Douglas Duane," exhibits a wonderful knowledge of the natural sciences, and puts forth incidentally a philosophy of nature which demonstrates his great range of mental vision, and his intimacy with Kant, Hegel, and such philosophers' views. In this one little work he proves himself to be a philosopher and scholar, beyond and above the great host of mere story-tellers who pass casually for thinkers. Mr. Fawcett has his faults, the principal being the tendency he manifests towards being a philosophic doubter, but he is better equipped to figure as an agnostic than others who make a specialty of the belief and use it to capture shekels. His work, "Douglas Duane"-alluded to-alone shows his mental capacity for the more profound lines of philosophy. We sincerely hope that he may yet live to recognize the necessity for certain forms in the social world, and that a sense of reverence will grow upon him not the pessimistic species, however.

**

ALMOST Opposite to Mr. Fawcett's style is that of Sidney Luska, another native author, who has sprung into prominence in a very short space of time. The latter has the mind of a musician, or artist, and impresses his individuality very sharply and distinctly within his writings. He never attempts to deal with very profound questions, and is scarcely fitted by temperament to ever win distinction as a student and painter of certain types of human character. His novels are perfectly delightful. was Written" is a particularly pleasing work of that species. Everybody knows this much about Sidney Luska, so it seems like floating time-worn compliment.

'As it

MR. WILLIAM WINTER, Some time ago, compiled and published some portion of the writings of Fitz James O'Brien, known years ago, in this city, as a journalist and poet: and it seems the book met with poor success. Looking lately through the London literary weeklies, we discovered that the

book has been very well received over there, where it has been recently reproduced. O'Brien's name is suggested simply by the mystical character of his stories, some of which were-according to Mr. Winter-regarded as marvellous in their time. Now he is almost forgotten, and his works unknown. Mr. Winter's fidelity to his dead friend and co-worker is touchingly shown in his preface, and in his effort to perpetuate O'Brien's literary productions. There are very few persons living, in this age of material strife and hub-bub, who would value friendship and the personal wishes of a dead friend so far as to do what Mr. William Winter has done for the memory of his friend O'Brien. It serves to illustrate Mr. Winter's character.

Daniel Spillane.

NOTES ABOUT THE AMATEURS. THE number of theatrical entertainments to be given after Lent is something awful. The Columbia College Dramatic Club will probably lead off, presenting at the Berkeley Lyceum an entirely new society burlesque, written by one of the members of the Club on Captain Kidd. The rehearsals are to be conducted under the supervision of Francis Wilson, of the Casino, and I think a most excellent performance may be expected. The cast will be given in the next number of THE THEATRE.

The Comedy Club will again enter the field about the middle of April, presenting "A Scrap of Paper," which will be their last effort this year. But I look forward with great pleasure in seeing great strides made next season by the above-named Club. Its membership contains all the leading amateurs of the city (except Mr. Coward), and now, since Miss Otis has consented to act as their leading lady, I see no reason why a performance nearly up to the professional standard cannot be given by them. The officers of the Club for the

44

MR. HENRY G. PAINE is getting up a performance for the Baby's Ward, to take place at the Lyceum some time during Easter Week. The Dead Shot," a play which was given a short time ago at the Metropolitan Concert Hall, will form part of the bill, and if Mrs O. S. Teall can be persuaded in acting Hamilton's Bell Comedy, written expressly for her, will fill out the rest of the programme.

With a score of other performances, both in town and out, the amateurs will have a lively time of it. The Amateur.

AMENITIES OF THE STAGE.

THE widespread attention that has been aroused among theatre-going people by the current production of Sardou's latest masterpiece by his best-known interpreter in this country, Miss Fanny Davenport, has caused a vast amount of searching criticism of play and players to be indulged in by the press. All critics agree that the real climax of the play of “ La Tosca" is reached at the conclusion of the fourth act, in which La Tosca herself, having exhausted every device that her womanly tact and most artful diplomacy could furnish, to protect herself from the fiery onslaught made upon her by the brutal Scarpia, finally, driven to desperation, and holding in her breast the paper with the latter's signature, which assures at once her lover's life and her own escape from Rome, ends the horrible scene by plunging a knife in the cowardly breast of the villain, whose death-agonies she renders even more agonizing by her curses and denunciations. Whatever may be the critical verdict as to the propriety, from a moral standpoint, of a scene in which the motive is fiery, brutal lust combatting with revolting fierceness against an almost helpless victim, the result of the consummate art displayed by the two actors in this gruesome exhibition is uniformly the same at each performance of the much-discussed play. As the curtain descends on the picture of the red-handed murderess calmly looking at the corpse of the man who had so nearly outraged her, and about whose still warm body she has, in an impulse of strange religious fervor, placed the candles and crucifix of the Roman Catholic rite, the pent-up feelings of the audience nightly burst forth in loud applause, which continues until the curtain is again raised.

Just here is a point to which I wish to call attention. The rising curtain, which has an instant before fallen upon as fiercely tragic a scene as ever playwright imagined, now rises, disclosing La Tosca standing side by side-nay, even hand-in-hand-with the villain Scarpia, whom she is supposed to have just slain. Though still panting and exhausted by the exertions of the scene through which they have just passed, both are bowing and smiling in response to the plaudits in front.

Surely this method of responding to the applause of the audience is a violation of the best laws of the stage, as followed in France, for instance, where. no doubt, all matters pertaining to the stage and its best development receive more serious attention and consideration than in any other country.

Such laws are usually matters of tradition, so it is impossible to turn to section and code, and point out just what the law is in such a case; but if formulated, I think the one which is violated in the above instance would read somewhat as follows: "An actor impersonating a character whom the author has left 'dead' at the fall of the curtain should never again, en scène, be seen ' alive.' Mark well the reservation; while en scène, that is, while within the proscenium arch, while forming a part of the picture of which the simulated scene forms the setting, a character supposed to be dead as the act ends should by no means, in the event of the curtain being raised, be disclosed standing in the same spot alive and well.

Here is the distinction drawn according to the French idea: "En scène, c'est le róle .... devant le rideau, c'est l'artiste." In other words, while he forms part of the stage-picture, it is the character that we see, while the man whom we applaud smiling and bowing to right and to left, before the curtain, is no longer the character, but the artist merely. A fine disdinction, you say, and savoring of hypercriticism? haps, yet worth consideration, in an artistic

sense.

Per

Thus it is that I contend that if the curtain is raised, for instance, at the conclusion of that thrilling death-scene, in that muchtalked-of fourth act of "La Tosca," it should reveal the corpse of the murdered Scarpia still prone on the floor, the crucifix undisturbed upon his breast, and the candles still casting their flickering light about his distorted face, and La Tosca herself still gazing at her murderous work, or preparing to escape from the scene of her crime. Then, if the audience still continue their applause as the curtain again hides the dreadful picture from sight, let Mr. Mordaunt and Miss Davenport appear before the curtain, together or singly, and as many times as they like, or as the audience demands, and then all will have been done without disturbing the "fond illusion of the stage." H. S. B.

IMPROVING,

(Columbus Dispatch.)

THAT bright and always welcome magazine, THE THEATRE, seems to continually improve. Its fearlessness is only equalled by its justness and intelligence in criticising. The last number has a beautiful illustration of Sarah Bernhardt, as La Tosca; also some fine interior views of her home.

I hesitate to send you the accompanying translation of an article in "Le Figaro" owing to its length, but doubtless the subject is interesting enough to warrant its publication.

Of course this article was written at the time of the great revival of "La Fille de Mme. Angot" at the Eden Theatre, and apropos of that I enclose you a copy of one of the posters announcing the production. I believe that M. Lecoq is responsible for the ingenious device that solved for the manager the great problem as to which diva should occupy the most prominent position on the bills. It may not be new, but it is certainly a good idea. Respectfully yours. H. S. Adams.

THE HISTORY OF LECOQ'S OPERA.

To the Editor of "Le Figaro:"

You ask for an historical account of "La Fille de Mme. Angot." I have neglected to make any memoranda, and it is only by summoning up my recollections that I am enabled to sketch for you the various incidents that have attended this work from its conception to the 800th performance, but I guarantee you its absolute correctness.

One day in June, Humbert, then manager of the Fantaisies Pausiennes, at Brussels, brought me a manuscript.

"Mon cher," said he, "I bring you wealth." He spoke the truth, for the manuscript was that of "La Fille de Mme. Angot," by M.M. Clairville, Sirauden and Koning.

The preceding year I had already supplied Humbert's Theatre with "Les Cents Vierges," which was completely successful. Being desirous of obtaining a new score from me, he came to ask me to write the music for La Fille de Mme. Angot."

I read the piece which at first seemed to me an oldish trifle. The dialogue appeared dull but the verses were charming, and the finale of the second act where I immediately perceived an effect, at once theatrical and musical, decided me to accept Humbert's

offer. My publisher, to whom I mentioned it, examined the libretto, saying as he returned it to me: "I hardly advise you to set that piece to music, Í do not find it original enough." In reality I was much of the same opinion, but I told him that Humbert had engaged me, and that I should do it anyhow.

Before setting to work I arranged with my associates that a Parisian manager should produce "La Fille de Mme. Angot after its representation at Brussels. The manager of the Folies Dramatiques accepted it.

Then I began my task without enthusiasm, and I should not tell the truth if I should say that I foresaw at first the success that awaited me.

The greater part of the numbers I composed quite easily, two, however, giving me some trouble; the duet of the two women in the second act, and-who would believe it?—the_conspirators' chorus. This last number, wherein I meanwhile foresaw something of a sensation, was not forthcoming. It was only after having tried it in twenty different ways that it at last took a definite shape, and yet I was not half satisfied with it. I grew tired of this chorus and took it up with dislike. The rest of the score was, as I have said before, written very quickly, and that is easily accounted for; all the words to be set to music were well made, and the verses, greatly varied in style and division, were so well adapted to their place that I had only to write without asking the authors to make any changes.

The only thing that I asked of Clairville, was the addition of a quintette to the second act. I also omitted a little concerted piece at the moment of the arrest of Pomponnet, because it seemed to me to spoil the effect of the finale. And that was all. Never since has it been permitted me to labor under such favorable conditions; for it is indeed seldom that a composer finds a piece completely provided for like "Mme Angot," with the musical part already prepared and without need of modification.

and the role of Clairette seemed made expressly for her. This little woman, of rather hoydenish manner, with her large eyes and her fervent and bell-like voice, was the very incarnation of the child of the market. The part of M'lle. Lange was destined to Mme. Geoffroy, also a small woman, who had just made a positive success in Litolff's "Heloise and Abelard." But this artist would not accept the rôle, which was, she said, the second one, and she declared that she would sing Clairette or else they would be compelled to do without her. So there was no M'lle Lange.

Luce was to be Pomponnet, and would have been charming. But after the reading, which he listened to with a sulky air, he, in turn, declared that, Pomponnet being a second part, he would not accept it. Then there was no Pomponnet. What was to be done? They intrusted this part to a young man named Dupin gifted with a small and quite pleasing voice, but of a very wretched personal appearance for the character that he ought to represent. The role of Ange Piton fell to M. Mendasti, a very good comedian, but not possessing any sort of a voice. The part of Lavivandierè was given to Luce, and that of Lonchard Legrain.

A Mille Lange was yet to be found. Several engagements were proposed and re- i jected. At length, the one hundredth performance at Brussels being near, and the engagement of Desclauzas terminating, the manager of the Folies decided to call her to Paris. Our cast was then complete.

I said that at the first reading of the manuscript the dialogue appeared to me dull, and that I thought it should be altered for Paris and written with more airiness and humor. I had not realized that it was precisely that rather artless simplicity and conviction of the dialogue that was bound to contribute to the success of the work. It broke away from the old-fashioned proceedings of operetta, bringing us back to the pleasant form so esteemed by our fathers, the Opera-Comique, or rather, ComédieLyrique.

* **

ALTHOUGH my apprehensions concerning the piece had partly disappeared since the Brussels performance, I was forever asking myself if it would seem gay enough for the Parisian public, and I dreaded to hear that remark which has so often sent a chill down my back: "That isn't funny."

The excellent Clairville would not budge. Thus he had made his play, and thus it should be performed. How right he was!

It goes without saying that the rehearsals did not pass off without hindrances and fatigues. I have only a dim recollection of those slight annoyances so common to the theatre, but I remember perfectly well that I had a skirmish with Paola Marié concerning her couplet of the "Enquenlade," which she transposed to the fifth below, singing it in chest tones. I found that horrible, and savoring of the music-hall, and protested strongly. Nevertheless Paola continued singing it as she understood it, and, on the whole, she was not altogether in the wrong, since if it was not in the best of taste that heavy voice proceeding from such a small body produced one of the strangest effects, and a very funny one.

Thus the dress-rehearsal was reached in an indifferent manner, and it passed off very well. However, the rendition of several of the masculine rôles appeared to me so poor that I had dreadful apprehensions. Something that the conductor said to me after the rehearsal was not of a nature to reassure me: but I con

It went very well," said he; fess that I haven't laughed once."

That is so, to be sure," said I to myself, "it is not funny.

That

THE first performance took place Feb. 21, 1878. At the beginning of the first act M. Dupin, who had a cold, made a quack in his couplet. Whispers in the audience. was unpromising. However, the people were stirred up a little by the market-woman's song, which was encored. Finally some political allusion-was it turning out welldefinitely broke the ice, and the first act ended warmly applauded by some, and obstreperously disapproved of by others. A slight commotion ensued in the house. During the entr'act one of the fault-finders came to the authors and begged them to take out all that pertained to politics if they did not wish to see their piece suppressed. The refrain, "Ce n'était pas la peine de changer le Gouvernement" had, it seemed, clashed with certain susceptibilities. As if those words which are but a different reading of A. Karr's saying, “Plus ça change, plus c'est la meine chose "-did not contain a truth for all times, and consequently absolutely inoffensive.

The second act began. The stage-setting was poor. Above all, there were some red curtains that would do very well for a wineshop. Desclauzas came on the stage, and was warmly welcomed. Pomponnet, who was hoarse, was sparing of his powers, and