Therefore I declined, and he hoped I would “let them all down gently,” to use his own expression, and I saw no more of him. At the end of the play there was much applause and cheering, and the ladies received bouquets of choice flowers handed up by frenzied admirers; but all this was, of course, nothing to me. I left the Assembly Room and passed out among the audience, like one of themselves. Then I walked all the way home, in order that I might collect my thoughts and reach a judicial and impartial frame of mind. Of course one must sometimes be cruel to be kind, and so on; but I felt in this case that it was possible, allowing for the low artistic plane on which amateurs are accustomed to move, to say some friendly and encouraging thing, accompanied, of course, by the practical advice for which these Clapham Macreadies would naturally look in the pages of _Thespis_ when next they purchased it. My review occupied an entire Sunday in writing, and I don’t think I overlooked anything or anybody. I began by touching lightly on the veteran French dramatist who was responsible for the play; I then alluded to the translation, and the Bancrofts, and their reading of the parts, and so on. Then, slowly but surely, I came to the Macreadies and their production. I began with some hearty praise of the general performance and the courageous spirit that had inspired the company to attempt so ambitious an achievement. I censured some of the scenery, but indicated how it might have been made better with a little more forethought. The music between the acts I examined very thoroughly and considered it not well chosen. I may quote a passage or two, in order to show the general nature of the critique:— “To Mr. Frank Tottenham fell the part of Count Orloff, and we may say at once that his rendition left little to be desired. His conception was subtle and vigorous; he managed his limbs with a sound knowledge of stage deportment, and though his elocution was faulty, his voice appeared well in keeping with the character. His make-up, however, left much to be desired. There was a lack of permanence about it, and it changed perceptibly during the course of the play.” Again I submit another passage:— “Baron Stein requires an actor in every way out of the common for his adequate rendition, and if Mr. Rupert B. Somervail did not plumb the character to the core and betray the secret springs that inspire it, he none the less submitted a consistent and highly intelligent, if rather tame, reading. He has considerable promise, in our opinion; and we shall watch his future progress with acute attention.” I took each character in turn in this way, and found that, to do real justice to the production, almost a whole number of _Thespis_ would be necessary. However, that, of course, was not my affair. I had undertaken to do a thing for Mr. Bulger, and I did it as well as I could. The rest I left to him.