Frank Benson and Another

My Memoirs. By Sir Frank Benson. (Berm. lie.)

The Like of Michael Kelly. By S. M. Ellis. (Genetics. 258.)

Ix spite of all that is said about the " narrowing effect " of a stage life, and about the petty spites and jealousies of the theatrical profession, the books written by actors and actresses arc often wider in their outlook and freer front rancour or ill-will than the general run of other reminiscences. This of Sir Frank Benson's is an example of it. His mind moves in an atmosphere of large ideas. He is warm-hearted even towards those who stood in his ray. He tells, good- Immouredly, for instance, of the criticism passed on his early efforts by a touring manager. This employer said :—

" To be perfectly plain your movements are angular and awk- ward; your elocution is most sing-songy and unnatural; your gestures are ungraceful and ill-timed. My advice to you is to leave the stage. Good morning."

Fortunately the young man persevered, and though he did not become a great actor himself he trained, through the

medium of the Benson Company, a large number of young men and women who never ceased to be grateful for the time they spent in it. Lovers of the theatre had reason to be grateful also. There was in that company a spirit of health and honour, a fine striving after ideals, in addition to the very valuable training it gave. This has been of great and lasting service to the stage. In part, the Benson " ethos " was due to his passion for games and physical prowess. That a candidate for admission to the troupe was a Rugger blue or could run a fast quarter-mile, or make a useful member of a cricket or a hockey team, was as much in his favour as the possession of a musical voice or a talent for speaking verse. This comes out in the book, He laughs at himself for it. Yet one can see how it influenced, not only his life, but the lives of many others, in a sound, clean, healthful way.

Frank Benson was one of the earliest recruits to the stage from " the titled, landed and official classes," to adopt the phraseology of a time-honoured work of reference. In his young days, as he puts it, " it wasn't done." Yet he did it and he does not regret that he did. His family, county people in Hampshire, hoped he would go into some dignified and profitable line of business. He got as far as going to consult the Governor of the Bank of England about this :—

" I donned my best coat, of olive-green with silk facings, and a peacock blue tie—the influence of Rossetti and Liberty's window . . . I put my fool questions and receive a straight answer.

"No (said the great man, quizzically surveying my rather ultra- careful clothes), looking at you—pardon me, your overcoat—and listening to your talk, I should say you would never make a man of business."

So he went to the Lyceum Theatre under Irving instead of into the City. Of course, he came under Irving's spell, and not less completely under that of Ellen Terry. Here is a sketch of " the Chief " supplied by the stage door keeper :— "Look at them (lie said, pointing to a small crowd of people). They all want to see Mr. Irving. Many in that crowd are Members of Parliament., peers, painters, poets, all the pick of the land ; but I have told them they can't see the governor this morning. Be is busy with an old crony who played with him years ago in stock com- panies; and I know exactly what will happen. They will talk of the times when they were glad to receive twenty shillings a week and were not sure of that ; they will talk for two hours and then the governor will get up and ho will say, ' Fortune has been kind, to me than it has been to you, and if this is any good to you, then make use of it for auld lang syne,' and ho will slip two tenners into his hand. And he won't care a bit that he has kept the Rouse of Lords and all these swells waiting as long as he has helped an old brother ' pro' in distress. That's what makes the governor the big man he is and why be is loved throughout the profession."

Young Benson had made a hit in a performance of the Agamemnon while he was at Oxford, and thought he was com- petent to play leading parts straight away. But when he joined a touring company after being at the Lyceum he was asked to be, not Hamlet, but Rosencrantz. And even as Rosencrantz he made no hit. He wore for this character " a hideous straggly yellow wig," and when he entered the Hamlet, who was also the proprietor of the company, turned his back on the audience and said in loud aside : " What the hell have you got on your blasted head ? " This query was repeated with variations of language, and then the actor-manager said : " You look like a ----. Get off the stage and change it, for God's sake." However, this sort of treatment did not humble the lad's pride for long. The actor-manager decamped and the recruit carried on the tour. That was the real begin- ning of his career.

There is much in the book besides theatre memories. Sir Frank has had a life apart from the theatre and known many people unconnected with it. He was at Oxford with Oscar Wilde among other undergraduates who later became famous, and lie disposes of the notion that Wilde was as flabby as he looked. He tells how " the big, loosely built Irishman," the

lazy, lumbering, long-haired, somewhat sallow faced indi- vidual with a greeny-brown coat and yellow tie," once defeated single-handed a party of Magdalen ruggers who proposed to make hay of his rooms :-

" To the astonishment of the beholders, number one returned into their midst propelled by a hefty boot-thrust down the stairs ; tho next received a punch in the wind that doubled him up on to the top of his companion below ; a third form was lifted bodily from the floor and hurled on to the heads of the spectators. Then came Wilde triumphant, carrying the biggest of the gang like a baby in his

RMS.

A pleasant volume of varied interest by a man who through all the ups and downs of his career has kept his sweetness of temper, his love of all things that are lovely and of good report.

Michael Kelly, actor of the late eighteenth and early nine- teenth centuries, was a type oddly different from the founder of the Benson Company. Mr. S. M. Ellis, turning for a while from the letters of that boon companion, Sir William Hardman, thoroughly enjoys the joviality, the love of good wine, the gay carelessness of anything but the moment's fun, which made Kelly a " character." The fellow had a knack of striking up acquaintances and being in the neighbourhood of events. The book is a panorama of a period rich in interests and queer folk.