n that account. There is a "plentiful
lack of tenderness," but an abundance of humour to excuse it. This
quality is not visible in "Mr. Punch's Pocket Ibsen"--a parody so good
that we sometimes wonder if the part we are reading is not really from
the hand of the Norwegian master. Nothing, surely, could be truer,
nothing touched with a lighter hand than "Pill-doctor Herdal"--an
achievement attained solely by a profound study of the dramatist. Again,
in "The Man from Blankley's" and in "Lyre and Lancet" we have social
satires grafted on to a most entertaining plot--a creation in both cases
which may be compared with Keene's drawings for observation, and with
Goldsmith's and Moliere's plays for the happy construction of these
comedies of errors. The plots assuredly would have extorted the
admiration of Labiche himself, so complicated and ingenious are they.
Besides, everything seems so natural, so inevitable, "so much of a
lesson," that it is hardly to be wondered at that "The Man from
Blankley's" was on more than one occasion actually given out as the text
for a sermon delivered from the pulpit.

Another excuse for music-hall treatment of an exquisite sort is afforded
by the story of "Under the Rose," which is inimitable. For example:--

THE SISTERS SARCENET (_on stage_): "You men are deceivers
and awfully sly. Oh, you _are_!"

MALE PORTION OF AUDIENCE (_as is expected from them_):
"No, we _aren't_!"

THE SISTERS S. (_archly_): "Now you _know_ you are!

You come home with the milk; should your poor wife ask why,
'Pressing business, my pet,' you serenely reply,
When you've really been out on the 'Tiddle-y-hi!'
Yes, you _have_!"

MALE AUDIENCE (_as before_): "No, we've _not_!"

THE SISTERS S. (_with the air of accusing angels_): "Why,
you _know_ you have!"

It is sometimes objected that the root of Mr. Anstey's success lies near
the surface, and is nothing but the vividness of his dialogues. It is a
great deal more; it lies in the truth of his characters, subtly drawn,
but irresistible, and, now and again, tenderly pathetic. Thus may you
see the optimist and pessimist, and the link between them, in the
following scene in the Mall on Drawing-Room Day:--

CHEERY OLD LADY (_delighted_): "I could see all the coachmen's 'ats
beautiful. We'll wait and see 'em all come out, John, won't we?
They won't be more than a hour and a half in there, I dessay."

A PERSON WITH A F