had several checks which would be astounding if one did not
recollect that she was constitutionally unsuited for the task she
attempted.

The most ardent Bensonian will hardly suggest that his idols are always
judicious in their choice of characters. To use the stock stage term,
players often "see themselves" in characters in which the public sees
only them and not the characters. Are there no kind friends on the stage
to give unpalatable advice?

One reason for the extraordinary success of the performances by the
Stage Society and the Vedrenne-Barker management and of Pinero plays was
the judicious choice of players whose physique and temperament coincided
with their parts. Several times we had what seemed brilliant pieces of
acting by performers who never did anything before or afterwards worthy
of admiration. At almost every fresh production enthusiastic young
critics discovered a new actor or actress who, after all, was only an
old friend well fitted at last.

The lack of attention by managers to this matter of suitability often
leads to very awkward results, chiefly in the case of the ladies. Many
times we have listened to ravings about the beauty of the heroine, and
when she has appeared there has been a giggle in the house on account of
her lack of beauty. We have frequently heard references to the tiny feet
of a healthy young woman who would hardly have got three of her toes
into the glass slipper, or to the dainty hands of a lady who would split
a pair of eights.

The beauty of the men is not so frequently referred to, but we sometimes
have an ugly fellow vainly trying to live up to suggestions that he is
an Adonis and merely looking ridiculous in consequence. The matter of
age, too, enters into the question--at times disastrously. Some
actresses are like Cleopatra or Ninon de l'Enclos, but many look twice
their reputed age. It is only in the case of Juliet that it is deemed
decent to refer to this difficulty, and then merely because Shakespeare
has set her so cruelly young that everybody knows nobody can play and
look the part.

In this matter a little good sense would work wonders. We critics are
much to blame, and blamed, for not trying to force the entry of good
sense. Some of our forebrothers never hesitated to talk bluntly about
the physical unsuitability of players for their parts, but we have grown
so mealy-mouthed that if Miss Florence Haydon were to play Rosalind or
Mr Louis Calvert Romeo, we sh