Part 2

The influence of the most popular English novelist has for some years been very potent on the stage. Imitators of Mr. Dickens do alarmingly abound in these days. And so it happens that we can scarcely enter a theatre without a strong foreboding that we are about to be entertained by some thief from Whitechapel, whose highest notion of fun consists in making “v” and “w” interchangeable; or some turfy clerk from the City, who relies for his power of attraction principally upon his “get up.” That this is no fault of the novelist (of whom we can never have too much) we readily admit. The followers of Mr. Thackeray are less numerous, and anything that indicates a spread of his influence on the modern stage is worthy of note. Whatever may he said about Mr. Robertson’s originality, the public is right in applauding his efforts. This applause is at once an unconscious tribute to the genius of Thackeray, and a mark of appreciation of Mr. Robertson’s ability. It will surely be a matter for congratulation when eccentricities, whether from St. Giles’s or St. James’s, are driven from the boards, and when in their place we have put before us the men and women—or something like them—which we meet in real life, and in the pages of _Vanity Fair_, _Pendennis_, and _The Newcomes_.

One does not like to close a notice of this kind without some mention of the actors, on whose efforts much of the success of the piece depends. In having such a company as that of the Prince of Wales’ Theatre to undertake his characters Mr. Robertson is especially fortunate. Miss Wilton is perfection. Mr. Hare has genius, and his acting evinces careful study. The other performers are so excellent, each in his or her own way, that unless we mentioned all of them we dare not mention any; and, indeed, any notice now is somewhat after date, for has not all London seen the play, and all Pressdom said its say anent the same?