Widowers' Houses & Selected Correspondence Relating to the Play

Found myself with a slight cold in the head on waking on the morning of the 9th December. It lasted four days, but was not at all as bad as my ordinary influenza.

12/ Bernard Shaw’s diary

Preliminary Notes 1890

INTRODUCTIONS

Professor Stuart, by H.W. [Henry William] Massingham, at Nat. Lib. Club. 6th. Feb-y.

B.F.C. [Benjamin Francis Conn] Costelloe, by H.W. Massingham, at Nat. Lib. Club. 6th. Feb-y.

Digby Besant, by Wm. Besant, at 19 Avenue Road. 14 April.

G. [Lady] Colin Campbell [née Gertrude Elizabeth Blood], by herself, at New Gallery. 29th. April.

Algernon Swinburne, by Theodore Watts, at The Pines. Putney. 22nd. May.

Albert Thillot, by [Ernest Belfort] Bax’s card, at 29 Fitzroy sq. 15th. July.

Beatrice Potter [later Mrs Webb], by Sidney Webb, at Fabian. 18th July.

Leon Little, by Stanley Little, at Rudgwick. 23rd Aug-t. Marshall-Hall, by Jno. F. Runciman, at Covent Garden Opera. 6th. Nov-r.

Victor Maurel, by Lady Colin Campbell, at 67 Carlisle Mansions. 27th. Nov-r.

F. Gilbert Webb, by Edgar Jacques, at 58 Torrington Sq. 31st. Dec-r.

13/ Bernard Shaw’s diary

Preliminary Notes 1891

INTRODUCTIONS

Van Dyck (Belgian diplomat) at Fitzroy Square by Karl Armbruster. 17th May.

HEALTH

On the 7th June I caught the influenza. For a few days before I had noticed that my voice had lost its tone; but I was not ill. On this day I got a headache and what I thought was an attack of indigestion, to which, however, I am not subject. I had a very bad night—feverish and delirious. Next day I was weak and ill as if sickening from the fever—headache, pains in the back, weakness, nausea, etc. I did my day’s work and forced myself to eat as usual. In the evening I got the inflammation in the eye. That night I slept well; and next day I was strong again, though the pain in the eye remained, with sore throat and local pain. Next day my head was stuffy and uneasy and I was the least bit in the world feverish, as if the affair were a cold in the head. Although it merely lasted for four days, yet it left a headache behind it which at last grew so unpleasant that on the 19th I went down for a couple of days to Broadstairs and baked myself on the sands there. This got rid of it, though it returned for a while the evening I came up to town. I suspect it had much to do with the following.

On the 25th July my right calf, in which there has been for a long time a slight tendency to varicoses, developed this tendency rather emphatically. After a few days it passed away. I took some of Mattei’s anti-angiotico. On the 22nd August on coming up from Oxted, where I had been staying a few days with the Salts’, I had an attack of looseness of the bowels, not bad enough to be called diarrhea, but still bad enough to disturb me once in the night. Next day as I had to deliver three addresses in the open air, I took out with me a tube of Mattei’s antiscrofoloso giappone, and took it whenever I felt troubled. It kept it off; and I was well next day.

On the 9th September I caught what I thought was a slight cold; but next day it became a pretty bad cold in the head, and lasted until the 16th, though bad only for three days. On the evening of the 11th November I caught—or became conscious of having caught—a cold. It was, I thought, a fairly bad one; but on the night of the 13th, when I thought it was mending, it became very troublesome, so that I could not sleep, but lay reading for the great part of the night. I slept well on the following night, after which matters began to mend. I got rid of it very slowly and incompletely. On the evening of the 9th December, having been working late at nights and having no change or relaxation for a longish time, I got a bad attack, slept feverishly, and could do nothing next day; when, however, I mended in the evening.

14/ Bernard Shaw’s diary

Preliminary Notes 1892

INTRODUCTIONS

Auguste Couvreur and “Tasma,” his wife, at 88 St. James’s St. by R. W. Reynolds.

Fred H. Wilson. The Savoy Theatre, by Edward Rose.

H. Reece, 123 Dalling Rd. Mrs Emery [née Florence Beatrice Farr].

HEALTH

Caught a cold on the 10th March. It was not very bad, but it was a well defined one and went through the easiest stages.

On the 13th July I caught a headache in the afternoon of the concert; and in the evening, at the opera, I suffered so much from nausea that I had to leave before the end. I was violently sick when I got home; and did not quite recover for the few days after, though I got much better next day. My knee joint (the right) also began to give way in its old fashion. There is evidently some loose cartilage in it. It bothered me a good deal all through the autumn months. At last the left knee showed the same symptoms in the lighter degree.

On the 15th September I watched the sunset on Barnes Common, staring at the blinding light for nearly quarter of an hour. In the evening I found myself with a bad headache; and next day the headache continued all day. On the 8th November I got another bad headache after going without any day off work for some time. Also the trouble in my knees was felt again. It is evident that I have been overtaxing myself by working continually for the last few years without having a day of rest every week, and taking no real holiday except for a fortnight at a time when I have gone abroad. All the autumn I vowed repeatedly to make a “Sunday” for myself—that is, a day set aside every week for rest; but I find I cannot carry it out. Circumstances are too strong for me. Also I want bodily exercise badly. I am, however, more than ever convinced of the value to me of my vegetarianism and my abstinence from tea, coffee and alcoholic stimulants. Although I was much more seriously overstrained this summer than ever before by the very active part which I took in the general election, which came in the busiest weeks of the musical season, and though I was disappointed in being prevented by the cholera from going to Italy, yet I found that I recuperated remarkably even without a change, by taking walks and dropping my musical work altogether.

MEMORANDA OF REFERENCE, &C.

Thomson & Sons. Woodhouse Mills, Huddersfield.

Mrs Thornton Smith. 28 Townshend Road, St John’s Wood N.W.

15/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 29th July 1892

Began to set papers in order, and came across the comedy [named the Rhinegold later Widowers’ Houses] which I began in 1885 and left aside after finishing two acts. In the evening JP [Mrs Jane Patterson] was here; and she urged me to get her the old numbers of The World and to cut out my articles so that she might paste them up for me. Set to work at them and got through the whole lot. Cut out [William] Archer’s also and packed them up to send off to him.

Star d Justice 1d Dinner 1/1

16/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 31st July 1892

SUNDAY Speak on Streatham Common on “The Lesson of the General Election,” at 18.30 (J. F. McAndrews, 51 Natal Rd., Streatham S.W.). 17.45 from Victoria to Streatham Common.

Still amusing myself finishing the comedy [named the Rhinegold later Widowers’ Houses]. At Streatham it rained; as the audience would not go away I got rather wet. However, Crickmay turned up; and after the address he brought me to his house and gave me a dry coat and some supper. Malvin came in. Have not seen Crickmay or Malvin for several years. Came back from Streatham Hill.

Train to Streatham Common & back (from Streatham Hill) 1/6

17/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 2nd August 1892

Meet FE [Mrs Florence Emery] at Cannon St. at 14 and go down to Hayes.

Began to revise the comedy [the Rhinegold later Widowers’ Houses]. FE and I found that we had made a mistake about the train at Cannon St. and we had to wait in the City from 14 to 15.7. We spent the time going through the Guildhall. At Hayes it was too cloudy to be very pretty; but it was warm and did not rain; so we were able to rest well on the Heath. I went home after she went off to the theatre; and then rejoined her at her house at 22.

Star d PMG [Pall Mall Gazette] 1d Pick Me Up 1d Dinner 1/1? Return tickets Charing + to Hayes (2) 4/6 Charing + underground to Cannon St 1d Tea &c at Orange Grove 2/6? Train Portland Rd to Shepherds Bush & back 9d

18/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 20th October 1892

In the morning [Henry Halliday] Sparling went to town by train, having to go to Hull. May [Mrs Sparling née Morris] and I went off for a walk along the towpath to Richmond, where we dined at Ferrari’s Restaurant. We came back by train to Ravenscourt Park, where we parted, and I went to FE [Mrs Florence Emery]. She was out; and I went in and waited, working at the play, which I decided to call Widowers’ Houses. I wrote in a new scene near the end of the second act. FE did not come in until past 17.

Chiswick Ferry 4d Lunch at Richmond 2/4? Train Richmond to Ravenscourt Pk (2) 10d? Ravenscourt Pk to Charing + (we got out at St. James’s Pk) (2) 1/– Star d

19/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 27th October 1892

Social “Browning” at Mrs [William F. née Mary Higgin Davenport] Revell’s. 58 Oxford Gardens W. 19. Personal Rights Association Soiree and Discussion on “Free Trade and Individualism” opened by Alfred Milnes. St. Martin’s Town Hall. 20. [Charles] Willeby to call between 12 and I. Put off to Saturday. Go up to [Jack Thomas] Grein’s at 20 to discuss the cast for the play [Widowers’ Houses].

Began World article. Archer called and we went to dinner at the Wheatsheaf together. Very wet day.

2 Stars 1d Dinner 1/–?

20/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 14th November 1892

Fabian Executive. 17. Countess Castelvecchio’s 3d dramatic and musical recital. St. James’s Banqueting Hall. 15. Liberal and Radical Union Council Meeting. National Liberal Club. 20. First rehearsal of Widowers’ Houses at the Mona Hotel. 14. Call at the old office of The Novel Review, 18 Tavistock St., to be interviewed by Miss Wilson [“Mr Bernard Shaw’s Play”]. 15.

Spent the morning finishing Fabian Notes for The Workman’s Times. The rehearsal did not come to anything, as there were not enough present to get to work. I went on to The Novel Review, though I had telegraphed to put the inconvenience off. After the Fabian I went home and wrote some letters and changed my clothes. Did not get back here until past midnight. One of the letters I wrote was to the PMG [Pall Mall Gazette] about the right of public meeting.

Train Hammersmith to Charing + (return not used) 9d Dinner (at Orange Grove) 10d Star d Train Portland Rd to Hammersmith 6d

21/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 16th November 1892

Rehearsal, Mona Hotel.

Working at cutting the first and second acts of the play [Widowers’ Houses] for performance. Called on FE [Mrs Florence Emery], and went through the part with her. Found [John] Todhunter there. Went home after leaving the Orange Grove and got my letters. Got back here about 22 and wrote some letters.

Train Ravenscourt Pk to Charing + single, self, 6d, return FE 9d Papers 1d Orange Grove, table d’hote &c (2) 3/10 Train Portland Rd to Hammersmith 7d

22/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 21st November 1892

Fabian Executive. 17. Fabian Central Group Meeting. 32 Great Ormond St. F.[rancis] Galton on “The Place of Trade Unionism in Social Reconstruction.” 20. Rehearsal, Mona Hotel. 12.30. Call on [G.N.] Williamson of Black and White in the afternoon. Sleep at Fitzroy Square.

Murray Carson came to the rehearsal to read the part of Trench. After dinner at the Orange Grove I went to Black and White and arranged with Williamson to send him an article on the music of the month at the end of December. Then to the Executive, where I took the chair. Got something to eat alone at Gatti’s and then went to the Fabian Group Meeting, where I took the chair. Then home.

Train to Charing + 6d Dinner (at Orange Grove) 1/—? Macaroni &c at Gatti & Rodesano’s 1/4 [Arthur Wing] Pinero’s Magistrate 1

23/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 22nd November 1892

Cecil Sharp’s 3rd lecture. 15. School Board Vocal Music Competition. Exeter Hall. 14. Rehearsal, Mona Hotel. 12.30.

No rehearsal, the part of Trench being still rejected by all; Murray Carson came in; and we had a long discussion of acting. Finally we all went off to get something to eat. Spent three hours at Exeter Hall. Went out to FE’s; and stayed there until 22. Read over her part with her. On my way out from town got into the train with Charley Burkinyoung. Got out with him at Earl’s Court and walked with him to the corner of Philbeach Gardens, where we parted, I walking on to FE [Florence Emery]’s.

Train to Charing + 6d Dinner (at Orange Grove) 1/4? Papers 1d? Train Charing + to Earls Court 5d?

24/ To a British publisher John Lane who co-founded with Charles Elkin Mathews The Bodley Head publishing company

22nd November 1892

[Dear John Lane]

Were you serious about publishing that play [Widowers’ Houses] of mine? I am not sure that it would be a very gorgeous investment; but I suppose a limited edition at a high price would be bought by a certain number of idiots who would not buy anything of mine for a penny or a shilling. However, you can judge for yourself: my chief object in writing to you is to remind you that if the play is to be printed, it will need all the send-off it will get from the criticism and discussion of the performance; and as this is to take place (if it does not fall through) on the 9th Dec., we must literally rush into print. A simple and not too expensive way of making an édition de luxe of it will be to illustrate with photographs of the cast in costume. The leading lady is a very goodlooking woman, I might remark. It ought to be quite a quarto—not too large, but just large enough.

Your suggestion came into my mind this afternoon for the first time with full force. To confess the truth, the chief attraction to me is the opportunity of presenting a copy to each of the actors, who are all playing for nothing. So dont set too much store by my favorable view of the chance of a sale.

yours faithfully

G. Bernard Shaw

25/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 25th November 1892

Fabian Members’ Meeting. Barnard’s Inn. 20. Eight Hours Committee Report, Appointment of Auditors, and Miss [Emma Frances] Brooke’s resolution re framing new Constitution. Press View. [Prince Paul] Troubetskoy’s portraits and studies in oils. Dowdeswell’s. Press View. Miniatures at the Fine Art Society. Press View. Old Water Colour Society. 5 Pall Mall East. Press View. Stephen Coleridge’s oil studies, Water Ways of England, at Dowdeswell’s. Rehearsal, Mona Hotel. 12.30.

Went in to town by the 10.17 train and did the Bond St. Galleries before rehearsal. [James] Welch turned up to play Lickcheese; and we rehearsed the first two acts for the first time with the full cast. Afterwards I dined with FE [Florence Emery] at the Orange Grove and then went to the Old Water Colour Society. Then home, where I found Mrs Sparling [née May Morris] visiting my mother. JP [Mrs Jane Patterson] and Georgie [G.B.S.’s aunt] came in later on. I had to speak several times at the Fabian. Came home with Sparling.

Train Ravenscourt Park to St James’s Pk 6d Dinner (at O. G.) (2) 2/2 Justice 1d Star 1 Train Ptld Rd to Farringdon 2d Temple to Ravenscourt Pk 6d

26/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 27th November 1892

SUNDAY Off—Club evicted. Lecture on “Practical Communism” at the Workpeople’s Educational Club. 40 Berners St. Commercial Rd. E. 20. (C. W. [Charles William] Mowbray, 25 Little Alie St., Leman St. E.). Unemployed Committee. 337 Strand. 11.30. [Walter] Crane lectures on his American trip at Kelmscott House. 20.

We did not get back from the Committee until 14. I met Mowbray there and learned that the lecture was off. [Ernest Belfort] Bax and another man whose name I forget came in in the evening. We all went to Crane’s lecture. Had a few words with Mrs [Louise] Jopling[-Rowe] afterwards. Very busy writing interview for the Star [about Widowers’ Houses]. Up late over it. I did not go in to supper at Morris’s in order to get back to work.

Train Ravenscourt Pk to Temple & back 1/—

27/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 5th December 1892

Fabian Executive. 17. Monday Pop. [Johannes] Brahms’s Clarinet Quintet. Muhlfeld. 20. Also next Saturday. Jeanne Douste’s recital. Prince’s Hall. 20. Rehearsal. 1.

Was not down to breakfast until 11. Wrote letters, and tried to write up this diary for the past week. Did not attend the rehearsal [of Widowers’ Houses], as I promised to keep away so as to leave them to get their words. Came back with Sparling [née May Morris] from Executive.

Train to Ptld Rd 7d Dinner 1/1? Macaroni &c at Gatti & Rodesano’s 1/8

28/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 8th December 1892

Special Fabian Executive on Unemployed Question. 17. Last rehearsal [of Widowers’ Houses]. 14.

Wrote a couple of letters and then walked into town. Left the theatre with FE [Florence Emery] at 18.15; and went with her to the door of the Orange Grove, where I left her and hurried on to the Executive. They were all gone except Miss Priestley and Sparling [née May Morris]. Miss [Isobel E.] Priestley [later Mrs Bart Kennedy] gave me her opinion of the play. Came back with Sparling. Got home a little after 20 or thereabouts. Wrote some letters, etc.

Bus Marble Arch to Halles St 1d Star 1 Dinner 10d Charles Hoppe, for pit tickets for Mrs Hewlett 5/– Train Temple to Ravenscourt Pk 6d

29/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 9th December 1892

Production of Widowers’ Houses by the Independent Theatre at the Royalty. 20. Wind Instrument Chamber Music Society 1st concert. Prince’s Hall. 20.

I forget what I did today, except—Oh, I remember. I went over to FE [Florence Emery] at about noon and stayed there for some hours. Then I walked into town. Made a speech at the end of the play. Spent the night at Fitzroy Square. Watchkey 3d

30/ To a British actor-manager and a barrister Charles Charrington

14th December 1892

Dear Charrington

If you have seen “Widowers’ Houses” you will understand that it was altogether too experimental to be put on anywhere except at the I.T. [Independent Theatre], least of all at the theatre of any manager for whom I had a ray of personal regard. All that could be done with it would be about three matinees run by some manager who had a theatre and a staff eating their heads off in the afternoon. The third matinee would perhaps bring the performance up to the level of a bad dress rehearsal. However, I have proved myself a man to be reckoned with. I have got the blue book across the footlights. I have made [James] Welch’s reputation and blasted Florence Farr’s. I have established the fact that Moy Thomas is the greatest dramatic critic of the age, and that [William] Archer & [Arthur Bingham] Walkley are a pair of idiots. I have appeared before the curtain amid transcendent hooting & retired amid cheers. And I have spent so much time at rehearsal that I am stark ruined, and am ruefully asking myself whether a continental trip for my health would not have been far more economical than all this theatrical glory. For of what value was it to me when J. A. C. [Janet Achurch, Mrs Charrington] was not there to see. As yesterday’s matinee was for the managers, I took it for granted that you would be there. I will try hard to get over to see you in the course of the next few days, tomorrow if no musical performance claims me—failing that, Monday. I am staying for the moment with H. H. [Henry Halliday] Sparling.

31/ William Archer’s review of Widowers’ Houses contributed to a British weekly paper The World

14th December 1892

. . . It is a pity that Mr Shaw should labour under a delusion as to the true bent of his talent, and, mistaking an amusing jeu d’sprit for a work of creative art, should perhaps be tempted to devote further time and energy to a form of production for which he has no special ability and some constitutional disabilities. A man of his power of mind can do nothing that is altogether contemptible. We may be quite sure that if he took palette and ‘commenced painter,’ or set to work to manipulate a lump of clay, he would produce a picture or a statue that would bear the impress of a keen intelligence, and would be well worth looking at. That is precisely the case of Widowers’ Houses. It is a curious example of what can be done in art by sheer brain-power, apart from natural aptitude. For it does not appear that Mr Shaw has any more specific talent for the drama than he has for painting or sculpture. . . .

32/ To William Archer

14th December 1892

[Dear Archer]

I have come to the conclusion that Moy Thomas (who sat it out again yesterday, every line) is the greatest critic of the age, and [Henry William] Massingham entirely right in his estimate of you and [Arthur Bingham] Walkley. A more amazing exposition of your Shaw theory even I have never encountered than that World article. Here am I, who have collected slum rents weekly with these hands, & for 4 years been behind the scenes of the middle class landowner—who have philandered with women of all sorts & sizes—and I am told gravely to go to nature & give up apriorizing about such matters by you, you sentimental Sweet Lavendery recluse. [Sweet Lavender is a play by Arthur Wing Pinero.] Get out!

GBS

33/ Bernard Shaw’s diary entry for 18th December 1892

SUNDAY Lecture at Kelmscott House for the Hammersmith Socialist Society. 20. (Sparling).

Revised proof of letter to the Star in reply to critics of the play. Also World proof. This involved finishing the World article. After dinner I went out intending to go over to Clapham to see [Henry William] Massingham; but I mistook the hour of the train and missed it. I went to Bedford Park and visited the Pagets [brothers Henry Marriott Paget, Sidney Edward Paget and Walter Stanley Paget]. On my return I found [Reginald] Blomfield, [James Brand] Pinker, and Miss Dalbshoff here. Pinker stayed until long after 18. I had “tea” and then lay down and slept for more than half an hour. After the lecture I went into Morris’s to supper. [Ernest Belfort] Bax, who had taken the chair for me, was there; also Catterson Smith, Touzeau Parris, [Edward Spencer] Beesly, [Emery] Walker and [Samuel] Bullock. Bertha Newcombe was one of the afternoon callers.

34/ Bernard Shaw’s letter to the editor of The Star “Bernard Shaw replies to the critics of the Widowers’ Houses”

19th December 1892

The critics of my play Widowers’ Houses have now had their say. Will you be so good as to let the author have a turn? I know that I have had a full meal of advertisement, and that to ask for more seems greedy and ungrateful; but I said at the outset that I would boom this business for all I was worth; and if I omitted a “reply to my critics” I should feel that I had not done my complete utmost.

I have read every criticism of the play I could get hold of; and I think it is now clear that “the new drama” has no malice to fear from the serious critics. A few of the humorists have, of course, shewn all the unscrupulousness of their speciality; but they have amused us; and for that be all their sins forgiven them. There has been a touch of temper, too: one gentleman’s blood boiled to such an extent that he literally “saw red,” and solemnly assured the public that I wore a coat of that revolutionary hue. But the influential critics have, it seems to me, been not merely fair, but generous in their attitude. The care with which every possible admission in my favor has been made, even in the notices of those who found the play intolerably disagreeable and the author intolerably undramatic, shews that the loss of critical balance produced by the first shock of Ibsen’s Ghosts was only momentary, and that the most unconventional and obnoxious agitator-dramatist, even when he has gone out of his way to attack his critics, need not fear a Press vendetta. I have had fair play from my opponents, and considerably more than that from my partisans; and if this is how I fare, I do not see what anybody else need fear.

However, the fairness of criticism is one thing, its adequacy quite another. I do not hesitate to say that many of my critics have been completely beaten by the play simply because they are ignorant of society. Do not let me be misunderstood: I do not mean that they eat with their knives, drink the contents of their fingerbowls, or sit down to dinner in ulsters and green neckties. What I mean is that they do not know life well enough to recognize it in the glare of the footlights. They denounce Sartorius, my house-knacking widower, as a monstrous libel on the middle and upper class because he grinds his money remorselessly out of the poor. But they do not (and cannot) answer his argument as to the impossibility of his acting otherwise under our social system; nor do they notice the fact that though he is a bad landlord he is not in the least a bad man as men go. Even in his economic capacity I have made him a rather favorable specimen of his class. I might have made him a shareholder in a match factory where avoidable “phossy jaw” was not avoided, or in a tram company working its men seventeen and a half hours a day, or in a railway company with a terrible deathroll of mangled shunters, or in a whitelead factory, or a chemical works: in short, I might have piled on the agony beyond the endurance of my audience, and yet not made him one whit worse than thousands of personally amiable and respected men who have invested in the most lucrative way the savings they have earned or inherited. I will not ask those critics who are so indignant with my “distorted and myopic outlook on society” what they will do with the little money their profession may enable them to save. I will simply tell them what they must do with it, and that is to follow the advice of their stockbroker as to the safest and most remunerative investment, reserving their moral scruples for the expenditure of the interest, and their sympathies for the treatment of the members of their own families. Even in spending the interest they will have no alternative but to get the best value they can for their money without regard to the conditions under which the articles they buy are produced. They will take a domestic pride in their comfortable houses full of furniture made by “slaughtered” (i.e. extra-sweated) cabinet makers, and go to church or to dinner in shirts sewn by women who can only bring their wages up to subsistence point by prostitution. What will they say to Sartorius then? What, indeed, can they say to him now?—these “guilty creatures sitting at a play” who, instead of being struck to the soul and presently proclaiming their male-factions, are naïvely astonished and revolted at the spectacle of a man on the stage acting as we are all acting perforce every day. I can turn Sartorius from a house knacker into a dramatic critic quite easily without robbing the drama of its essential truth, and certainly without robbing the satire of its pungency. The notion that the people in Widowers’ Houses are abnormally vicious or odious could only prevail in a community in which Sartorius is absolutely typical in his unconscious villainy. Like my critics, he lacks conviction of sin. Now, the didactic object of my play is to produce conviction of sin, to make the Pharisee who repudiates Sartorius as either a Harpagon [a character of a comedy The Miser by the French playwright Molière] or a diseased dream of mine, and thanks God that such persons do not represent his class, recognize that Sartorius is his own photograph. It is vain for the virtuous dramatic critic to tell me that he does not own slum property: all I want to see is the label on his matchbox, or his last week’s washing bill, in order to judge for myself whether he really ever gives a second thought to Sartorius’s tenants, who make his matchboxes and wash his stockings so cheaply.

As to the highly connected young gentleman, naturally straightforward and easygoing, who bursts into genuine indignation at the sufferings of the poor, and, on being shewn that he cannot help them, becomes honestly cynical and throws off all responsibility whatever, that is nothing but the reality of the everyday process known as disillusion. His allowing the two business men to get his legs under their mahogany, and to persuade him to “stand in” with a speculation of which he understands nothing except that he is promised some money out of it, will surprise no one who knows the City and has seen the exploitation of aristocratic names by City promoters spread from needy guinea-pig colonels, and lords with courtesy titles, to eldest sons of the noblest families. If I had even represented Harry Trench as letting himself in for eighteen months hard labor for no greater crime than that of being gambler enough to be the too willing dupe of a swindler, the incident would be perfectly true to life. As to the compensation speculation in the third act being a fraud which no gentleman would have countenanced, that opinion is too innocent to be discussed. I can only say that as the object of the scheme is to make a haul at the expense of the ratepayers collectively, it is much less cruel and treacherous in its incidence than the sort of speculation which made the late Mr Jay Gould universally respected during his lifetime. I shall be told next that the Prince of Wales is not a gentleman because he plays baccarat; that copper cornerers like Mr [Pierre-Eugène] Secrétan, and cotton cornerers like Mr [William] Steenstrand, are not admited into society; that Pearson’s Weekly had no reputable subscribers; and that Panama [Canal] is a dream of mine.