red, but he must struggle for dear life against his--of course,
unconscious--imitation of HENRY IRVING. Shut your eyes to the facts,
occasionally, especially in the death-scene, and it is the voice of
IRVING; open them, and it is ALEXANDER agonising. No one can care for
the fine lady, statuesquely impersonated by Miss ALMA STANLEY, who
yields as easily to _Paul's_ seductive wooing as does _Lady Anne_
to _Richard the Third_. After Miss WARD and Mr. ALEXANDER, the best
performance is that of Miss GRAVES as _Little Em'ly Lydie_, and of Mr.
FREDERICK KERR as _Antonin Ham Caussade_,--the last-named enlisting
the genuine sympathy of the audience for a character which, in less
able hands, might have bordered on the grotesque. The comic parts
have simply been made bores by the adapters, and are not suited to the
farcical couple, Miss KATE PHILLIPS and Mr. ALBERT CHEVALIER, who are
cast for them. If this play is to struggle successfully for life, the
weakest, that is, the comic element, should at once go to the wall,
and the fittest alone, that is, the tragic, should survive. Also,
as the play begins at the convenient hour of 8.45, it should end
punctually at eleven. The only realistic scene is in _Paul Astier's_
room, when he is dressing for dinner, and washes his hands with real
soap, uses real towels, and puts real studs and links into his shirt,
and then suddenly reminded, as it were, by a titter which pervades
the house, that there are "ladies present," he disappears for a few
seconds, and returns in his evening-dress trowsers and nice clean
shirt, looking, except for the absence of braces, like a certain
well-known haberdasher's pictorial advertisement. It is vastly to the
credit of the management that all the articles of _Paul's_ toilet,
including Soap(!!), are not turned to pecuniary advantage in the
advertisements on the programmes. But isn't it a chance lost in _The
Struggle for Life_ at the Avenue?

* * * * *

CITY VESTRIES AND CITY BENEFACTIONS.

I have lately had the distinguished honour conferred upon me of being
unanimously elected a Vestryman of the important Parish of Saint
Michael-Shear-the-Hog, which I need hardly say is situate in the
ancient and renowned City of London. I owe my election I believe, to
the undoubted fact that I am what is called--I scarcely know why--a
tooth-and-nail Conservative, no one of anything approaching to
Radicalism being ever allowed to enter within