The Sun.
London, England, 1864-12-19 00:00:00

THE LYCEUM THEATRE,

Brilliant Success of Fechter's Ruy Bias.
It will scarce :y be matter for surprise—it will
certainly be a subjct for congratulation—to the
general public, when they learn that Mr. Fechter's
masterly impersonation cf Ruy Blas has proved to
be a success so enormous at the Lyceum Theatre
that it is announced for repetition—every evening
until further notice! AU the preparations making
at that theatre for Christmas Novelties have, in
consequence, had to ba put aside—this all-sufficieLt
attraction of "Ruy Bias" filling the house nightly.
Upon thief the latest—as it will be remembered to
have been also the earliest—c f his triumphs in this
country, we would offer to Mr. Rchter our very
cordial congratulations.

JOHN LEECH.

It is a great mistake, says a writer in the Cornhill Maga.
gine, to suppose that pleasant labour is not labour, and that
what is done rapidly involves but a slight effort. All con-
centrated endeavour wears the mind, and it was well said
by a painter to one who underrated the worth of a picture
produced in a week, " You forget that I have spent my
whole life in learning to paint that picture in so short
time." But Mr Leech's working was more rapid in appear-
ance than it was iu reality . He formed his ideas very
quickly; he saw his way in a moment. Mr Samuel Lucas
went to him once for a little sketch, which he wanted as the
initial letter to a tale that was about to appear in 01$06 a
Week. It was the story of a clown who had to crack his
jokes in a circuit while his wife was in her dying agonies.
She was a columbine who, standing on horseback, used to
leap through hoops, On the occasion of one of her leaps
she missed her looting, fell to the ground, and injured
herself fatally. To illustrate this tale a sketch was wanted,
suggesting the initial letter I, Before Mr Lucas had ceased
speaking the thing was done. I think this is what you
want," said Mr Leech, showing him th first draught of
the following sketch, which, by the way, is remarkable not
alone for its instantaneousness, but also as an indication of
what he, who generally took a humorous view of life,
could achieve in the direction of tragedy. See, again, how
perfect, and how vital, is the slight suggestion of the horse
underneath. When Mr Mark Lemon went to him with the
suggestion of a cartoon for .Punek, he was always struck
with Mr Leech's rapidity of understanding. He would
sometimes knock off one of his large cartoons in an hour, or
an hour and a half, while the friendly editor chatted with
him over a cigar. But although Mr Leech was thus rapid
in his conceptions, he very rarely trusted himself to draw
in the first instance upon the wood; an 1 the artist who first
of all makes a tolerably complete eketch upon paper, then
laboriously transfers the sketch to the block by means of
a tracing, and then again minutely fills in the details upon
the wood, can scarcely be described as a very rapid worker.
At all events it is plain that his work gave him an immense
deal of minute trouble. One consequence of this, however, is
that nearly all his first sketches upon paper remain, and
these will probably be soon exhibited by the public. They are
of course rough in comparison with his finished work, but in
all their roughness they are sometimes even more powerful.
In the very last work on which he was engaged in contrast
between the bold lines of his first sketch and the minute
elaboration of the picture, in so far as it has been transferred
to the wood, is more remarkable than ever. 'I his careful
elaboration will, to some extent, be seen in the copy of it
which we have been permitted to publish, The block itself
is too precious a possession to be cut by the engraver; but
Mr Mark Lemon, jun., has, by weans of photography,
succeeded in transferring its lines to another block which
has been cut for our use. The scene is one of a series
of what he called Dogleaves, which he intended for the
forthcoming Almanac. It is entitled "An Afternoon on
the Flags—Compliments;" and between the lady and the
dog there is thelaint outline of a huntsman who is supposed
to be saying—" She is a beautiful Creechur, ain't she, my
L ,dy ? She is'eur ;great Favourite—and Lord °Veneer
always says that for Symmetry and High Breeding, and for
Beautiful Nose, she's just like your Ladyship."
On the day before his death he wrote to hie kind friend
and publisher, Mr Evans, that ho had been suffering from
"much annoyance and disturbance." The end of the sad
story has been told in the newspapers, but one cannot help
dwelling on it, in the knowledge that if Mr Leech could
have found rest and peace, he might have lived to delight
us for many years to come. On that Friday before his death
Dr Qtrsin assured him that his only chance was in rest;
and when, a few hours befoi e he fainted away, he asked Mr
Hu chinson's peruission to work at some drawing—that last
unfinished sketch of the lady and the dog—it was given
only on the express understanding that it would be an
amusement to him. Three hours afterwards, no physician
being near him—Dr Quain being out of town, and his other
medical friends having left him to rest--his pain returned
to him, and in the anguish of it he died. His pain came to
him almost while he was in the act of catering for our en-
tertainment, and he who has done more than perhaps any of
his contemporaries, not even excepting Mr Dickens (for no
art of words can in this respect keep pace with that of the
pencil), to amuse the present generation, died in agonies
which he said were too great to be endured. The news of his
death rang through London with a dismal shock. "There
was a great cry in Egypt, for there was not a house where
there was not ono dead," In what home was not John
Leech an inmate ? Personally he shunned observation ;he
was always very quite and retiring; and few but friends
could recognise his handsome face and fine tall figure in a
crowd—not even when he rode past on Rod Mullet, a pony
for him at least s) diminutive that people declared it was
not a perry at all, bat Punch's dog Toby doing duty for one.
He, however, who was so little known to sight, was, for a

private person, the best known man in England, and hi;
death was a death in our homes.

Balzac's Poverty and Magnificence.

-.4>-____.

Three pennyworth of bread, and two of m ilk,
and three of sausage-meat, preveeted my dying of
hunger, and kept my brain singularly clear. My
lodging coat me three sous a day. I burnt my
midnight oil for three sous. I was my own house-
maid. To save the washerwoman, I wore flannel
shirts, I warmed myself by charcoal, which is
cheap and cheerless. The Jardies became an object
of public curiosity. Many travelled from Paris
by the railway to Ville d'Avray, only to look at the
outside of Bazac's Folly ! There it was, perched
up on the steep and slippery ground. The shutters
were green ; and truly the house needed shade, for
only one tree was near it, and the tree was a huge
walnut tree—of historical local celebrity. For some
years the inside of this abode was furnished only
by Balzn's imagination, as thus explained by Leon
Gozlan, his frequent visitor there .—" Upon the
bare:stucco walls of each empty room, sentences
such as the following were inscribed in charcoal :
Here, an adornment in pure Paros marble
Here, a pedestal in cedar wood. Here, a ceiling
painted by Eng& se Delacroix. Hero, a carpet by
Aubusson. Here, a mantelpiece of chiselled
marble. Here, doors like those of Trianon. Here,
a mosaic inlaid floor, formed of all the rare woods
of the isles. adz ac not only allowed jesting upon
this ideal furniture, but he laughed even more than
I did one day when, in characters still larger than
this, I wrote upon the wall or is own room, which
was as empty as the other rooms. Here, a picture
by Riphael, beyond all price, and such as never
has yet been " Tiae same guest, whilst rens
chilling testimony to Balzac's hospitality, declares
that the host himself drank nothing but water, and
ate little meat, but that he consumed a quantity of
fruit. "It was in one of the lower compartments
of the Jardies that we dined at six o'clock ; although
Baizac himself sometimes did not join us until des-
sert, but he was superb in vegetarian panta-
gruelisine. Dressed in his ordinary costume at
home (i.e. a white cashemire or flannel robs), his
cravat off, his shirt open, it was a sight to see him,
fruitsknifo in hand, cutting into the pulp of a
pear, laughing, drinking water, and I would add,
talking—bnt Balzic calked little at a table. He
let others talk; he laughed from time to time
quietly, or else burst forth like a bomb if any say-
ing pleased him. Then, his chest inflated, his
shoulders danced, and it seemed as though Ra..
belais were before us. Wine was drank freely at
Belz4e's table, often too freely.—Fretiels Authors
at Horns.

The extraordinary action, Travers v. Wilde,
which has been occupying the law courts in Dublin for
several days, terminated on Saturday. After a brilliant
speech by Mr Butt for the plaintiff, the Chief Justice
summed up. The jury, after a brief deliberation, returned a
verdict for Miss Travers, with one farthing damages.
"1 LA PRINCESSE DE LAMBELLE, ea Vie, sa Mort,"
Is the name of a work which has been a great success in