The Sun.
London, England, 1863-05-18 00:00:00

THE NEW COMEDY.

An original comedy from the pen of a grand
daughter of Sheridan is an event in theatrical
annals of more than ordinary importance. The
theory that genius runs in the blood—however
materialistic in respect to mind, and however rarely
supported by any distinctive and decisive instances
—has nevertheless an attraction for us which is
pretty generally diffused, and which leads to expec-
tations that are more easily indulged than they
can be accounted for. Little wonder, there-
fore, that a name so illustrious as that of
Sheridan should excite such expectations
in a more than ordinary degree, and bestow on the
event in question an infinitely higher interest than
has been raised in dramatic circles for very many
years. Another circumstance must be referred to
as greatly strengthening such impressions. The
writing of elegant comedy has become so rare in
recent times, that we were beginning to include it
in the list of the lost arts, and accordingly its as-
sumption, by Lady Gifford, seemed such a
coming to the rescue that we welcomed
the effort for its opportuneness, quite as
much as its superior promise. A moo
important branch of our drama seems in the last
stage of decline—and here was the promise of
resuscitation held out to us from the highest chan-
nel—the removal of the greatest want in the comic
literature of our day was connected, however re-
motely, with the greatest name in its especial pro-
vince that has enlarged the honour of our country.
We wish it had been in our power to say these hopes
had been fulfilled.

The new comedy by Lady Gifford, produced at
the above theatre on Saturday evening, under the
title of " Finesse," is, in the first place, not a
picture of existing English manners. Its scene is
laid in the Mediterranean half a century ago;
and its aim is mainly to illustrate one of
the many chequered phases of the old Napoleonic
war. Its action takes place at Messina in 1811,—
when Sicily was under the protection of England—
and was the asylum of Ferdinand the 4th, chohad
been driven from Naples by Murat, and its story
turns chiefly on the intrigues of the French party
on the Island headed by an escaped English convict
named St. Clair, and a certain Count Filipo—who
seek to subvert the English authority, and whose
toils are frustrated by the skill and fidelity of a Dr.
Bertrand, a French Emigre, and his son, Jules D ir-
tigney, the latter of whom is in the English service
and volunteers as a sp3 to obtain a knowledge of the
enemy's plans and direct evidence against their
leaders. With this leading historical interest,
which is by no means cleariy made oat, two minor
ones are combined—the story, in the first place, of
the Emigre, wha believes he has lost his son in
France, and unconsciously employs him as the spy,
in utter indifference to his fate—his son purposely
withholding his secret from his father, and volun-
teering for his dangerous task in order that he may
secure the latter's safety—and, secondly, the story
of Lucy Brandon, who is beloved by an English naval
officer, but is destined by her aunt, the wife
of a visionary German, to become the bride,
or rather the victim, of one of the French
conspirators. With this foundation is interwove!,
some broadly comic situations, consisting of the ad-
ventures of a Mr. Poppleton, a young Englishman
who disports him at Messina as a specimen of a
British sailor, abounding in his distinctions of a
love of hornpipes, grog, and fisticuffs; and also of a
German baron, who believes he has discovered the
elixir vitao, and proposes to try it on a mummy
with which he is to be furnished by Dr. Bertrand,
with the view of restoring the dead to life.
Such a melange as this, even though it referred
to our own day, could scarcely be classed with
comedy, and especially that of Sheridan, nor is the
divergence narrowed by the writing, which, though
agreeable enough throughout, mikes no pretension
to the wit and satire of the great exemplar we have
just named. This comedy is, in fact, a comic
drama in three acts, which, on the interest of
the Emigre and his son, threads some capital broad
farce of the German Baron and the amateur Sailor,
which also presents a lively picture of the motley
He that diversified the time and place that it pour-
trays, and which, on the other hand, has the defect
of an historic portion that is almost unintelligible as
it is detailed, and which is wholly uninteresting.
We shall not attempt to follow the complication 3 of
the plot that remind us of nothing so much es the si
nuosities of a Bauyou stream in Louisiana—but sim-
plycontent ourselves with saying that the youngspy
having succeeded in penetrating to the councils of
the French leaders and obtaining evidence against
them, is enabled to return to the English lines by
being conveyer as a dead body in a mummy chest
to the German Baron, who proposes to restore
him to life by means of his elixir vitae—from whence
he makes his way to his ship, and at length returns
from it with a torte in time to arrest the French
conspirators just as they are on the point of making
a capture of Lucy Brandon and her friends.

The success of this drama, which was very great,
was undeniably owing to its acting. Mr. Wigan
RS Dr. Bertrand—who is another version of hie
\lons. Tourbillon, changing the lost daughter
For a son—played with all his usual truth and
feeling ; and in the last scene, where he
believes his son is about to be arrested,
'aid he seizes a sword to defend him, exhi-
aited a force that was so masterly it contributed
much to the result of the night. Scarcely less im-
oortant, however, was the exuberant humour of Mr.
Buckstone in the English tar, after the fashion of
our old minor theatres, with his perpetual jig and
fisticuffs, or the dreamy characterisation of Mr.
Chippendale as the German Baron—the scene of the
two especially, when Poppleton takes the place of
the escaped spy, and is supposed by the Baron to
be the dead body that his elixir vitro has
rescuscitated, causing an uproar of laughter
such as that we have never heard exceeded.
The notion of restoring a mummy to life by means
of an elixir vitae, is taken from the old Lyceum
farce which John Reeve was once so famous in ; but
the result of the resuscitation as given in this scene,
where the Baron fancies he has saddled himself
with a great scoundrel for the rest of his
days, was an original conception, that was very
humorously worked out. Miss Angel, in the slight
sketch of Lucy Brandon, was very engaging ; and
Mrs. Wilkins, as the Baron's wife, who is jealous of
him, and believes he has resuscitated a natural
son, was very spirited and comic. Mrs.
Wigan, iu the servant Bobbin, a girl who detests
foreigners and is full of horrid tales about them, was
very natural, but so weak, that half the effect
of the part was lost, especially when contrasted with
what it would have been in the hands
of Miss Louise Keeley. Mr. Howe, as the Eng-
lish officer, was manly and pleasant as usual ; and
Mr. Walter Gordon and Mr. Brsid, as the two con-
spirators, played with character and purpose. We
must not forget also the very earnest sketch of the
young spy by Mr. W.Farren.
The house, it is needless to add, was filled to over
flowing, and the audience at the fall of the curtain,
after calling with great heartiness for the leading
actors and the authoress, received the announce-
ment of the drama for every evening with a loud
burst of approbation.

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