LUCID DIRECTIONS.

291

stage, out of sight of course, and puffs his bellows, the flashes from which, reflected on the stage, make quite a good representation of vivid lightning. The thunder is usually made by rolling wooden balls along troughs set above the scenes for that purpose, or by shaking a plate of sheet iron suspended by a rope over the prompter's box at the side of the stage.

Before appearing as the shipwrecked sailor Mr. Brown must be understood to have given directions to the individual who makes and dispenses the lightning. The property-man in this case was a Frenchman of a quick, irritable temper, who did not feel at all complimented when his English was called into question, and was therefore very apt to say, "Oh yez, I undare-stand-all right!" Brown was very prosy and particular in his forms of expression, repeating himself so often as to render what he had to say somewhat obscure: "Now, Nick, you know, I want you, you know, to give me half a dozen puffs" (quite natural for an actor!) "when you see me first stagger out of the water and throw myself down on the bank. Then run to the right-hand side of the stage and stand in the wings ready for me; when I throw myself against the wing on that side, you know, flash up pretty brightly. Then run round, you know, to the left-hand side, you know, and when I cross over and lean against the wing on that side, give it to me again. Then back to the right-hand wing, and repeat as before; so follow me up till I stagger and fall on my face in front of the footlights;

292 AN ORDER CAREFULLY OBEYED.

and then puff away as hard and fast as you can, and keep it up till the applause stops."—"Yez, sare, yez-all right!" said Nick.-"All right!" said Brown.

The scene began and the music struck up. This was supposed to be expressive, at one time of a storm, and at another of the feelings of the unfortunate sailor, who now appeared, and struggling through the water, reached the land and fell upon the bank to a well-timed "chord" from the orchestra, accompanied with brilliant flashes of lightning, and, much to the astonishment of Brown, with unmistakable laughter from the audience. Raising himself as the music began to change for his action, he staggered across the stage to a pizzicato movement, struck his attitude at the right-hand wing with another chord, when a roar of laughter again burst forth as the lightning flashed across the darkened stage. Again the music changed, and, fainter still, the poor sailor labored to reach the opposite side and throw himself for support against the wing, when another chord from the orchestra and another flash of lightning, followed by boisterous laughter, made Brown aware that something was going wrong. But intent on keeping time to the music of the scene and preserving the consistency of action, which did not permit him (the half-dead sailor) to look back when his life depended on going ahead, and totally unconscious of the cause of the laughter, he kept up his feeble efforts to reach the footlights, while at each wing at which he rested the merriment increased;

A LITERAL LIGHTNING-MAKER.

293

till at last, falling on his face with the final crash of the music, the whole house became convulsed. Then turning on his back, ye gods! how was he horrified to behold Nick immediately behind him puffing away at the lightning-bellows, while roar after roar of laughter burst from the audience as well as from the actors, who had also become acquainted with the situation! Puff! puff! went the bellows. "Get off! go away!" screamed Brown, "go away!" But no: Nick was "all right." Was he not ordered to puff away till the applause stopped? So Nick kept puffing, and the audience kept laughing and applauding, till the prompter rang down the curtain amid screams of merriment and thunders of applause.

Not till he had risen from the stage did Brown learn how matters had worked up to such an extraordinary climax. Nick's "All right!" had been all wrong by his mistaking Brown's orders to follow him up-which meant from wing to wing behind the scenes-while Nick understood that he was to follow the actor up in sight of the audience; and finding he had made a "hit," he kept following him up, fully convinced that he was "all right."

25 #

CHAPTER XV.

FORREST AND HIS SOCIAL RELATIONS.

FORREST started in professional life with an

instinctive admiration for the sublime and an ardent love of the beautiful in Nature and Art. He threw himself heart and soul into the feelings and passions of the author he intended to illustrate, without, however, possessing either the inclination or ability perfectly to analyze his thoughts, but grasping the whole with fervor and independent will. Under such influences he achieved a success which brought him before the public as a rising genius at an early period of life. Then came the time in which, as I have already stated, he met and was strongly impressed with Edmund Kean, whose energized enunciations and startling transitions made him the sensation of the day. Forrest, like Macready, left the truer guide, untrammelled Nature and her precepts, for a school of art which proffered a distorted, if not a perverted, imitation. In this both Macready and Forrest followed "the fashion of the times," accepting the declaration that

The drama's laws the drama's patrons give,

For those who live to please must please to live.

The acting of Forrest was natural, impulsive,

FORREST VERSUS MACREADY.

295

and ardent, because he was not so well trained as his English rivals in what may be termed a false refinement. True dramatic art may be said. to be the sister of Nature, but her teachings are continually perverted by those who, following the example of Garrick, take the liberty of interpreting them according to their own ideas. Forrest was not considered as polished an actor as Macready, and was often charged with rudeness and violence in his impersonations, and even ridiculed for muscularity of manner; and yet I never knew a tragedian who did not use all his physical power in reaching the climax of his most impassioned delineations.

It must be remembered that Mr. Forrest was a strong man, and when excited his passions appeared more extreme than those of one more delicately organized; and unqualified condemnation was only heard from those who were either unable or unwilling to perceive that the traits which distinguished our then young actor, were really more natural than the elaborate presentations and precise mannerisms of Macready. Hence the people followed Forrest, and loved him, while those who claimed to be the elite admired and applauded Macready, who came endorsed by a metropolis which in those days in matters of art assumed the direction of American judgment. Now, true dramatic excellence is believed to lie midway between Forrest and Macready, as Beatrice said in speaking of Don John: "He were an excellent man that were made just in the midway between him and Benedick."