Many great men have been unfortunate in their age and
country, anal- something of the kind may be said with respect to Mr. Bernard's new piece of .774c Passing Cloud, at Drury Lane ; which is not half so bad as the severer critics would make out. The story of a respectable merchant, who is shocked at the delinquencies of his brother, a galley-slave, and adopts that brother's daughter ; the galley-slave's escape, and anxiety to behold his child ; the devotion of the young lady, who believes that her reputed father is the Teal culprit, and would give her hand to the villain of the piece to make him hold his 'tongue ; and finally the employment of the convict as a "dens ex machiml" to crash designmgyillany and rescue oppressed virtue,—all this, written in imexceptionable language, and re- lieved by anomiecharacter, who utters mediocre jokes omthe subject of his appetite, would have been deemed a very respectable entertainment some twenty or thirty years ago. There was not then that restless desire for piquant situation which is felt at the present day : the vicissitudes of the principal personages would have drawn tears • the sentimenta, being of a good current kind, would have been deemed edifying ; and the small pleasantries of the humourist, coming in as high lights against a back- ground of gravity, would have been found infinitely facetious. But, alai! now-a-days, The Passing Cloud looks very heavy. The production, though not bad, is without novelty - words are in profusion when rapid action is desired ; and had it not been for the spirit which Mr. Anderson infuses into the principal character, the galley-slave, its fate would have been even worse than was actually the case. It is unlucky in its time (including the time of duration, for the two acts last three mortal hours) ; it is also unlucky in its locus, for the eye has of late been so accustomed to smaller theatres that it is susceptible of the disproportion between a large stage, and a small subject.
Previous page
