A PROSPEROUS PLAYWRIGHT. AUTHORS AND THEIR VANITY.

Otago Witness, Issue 1950, 4 April 1889, Page 31

A PROSPEROUS PLAYWRIGHT.

AUTHORS AND THEIR VANITY.

AN INTERVIEW WITH ME SYDNEY GRUNDY.

There is no more popular or prosperou writer for the theatre of to-day than M Sydney Grnndy, who is not yet 41 years old His pen is in ceaseless request, and were h to attempt to fulfil all the demands that ax made upon it during, let us say, six month of the year, he would be obliged also to attempt to live during that period withou eating, drinking, sleeping, or resting. Whei ever English is spoken, his plays are acted To seek an instance somewhat far afield, h is quite a favourite amongst the Mormons o Salt Lake City, and on the day when I calle< upon him he had received by the morninj post a cheque from Shanghai for a series o .performances of " The Snowball." He is ; • man who looks well able for any quantity o work, physical or mental ; standing over 6f high, with a proportionate development o ilimb and chest ; and good, rough-hewr .kindly features, with Strength in Every Line. Mr Grundy has the happy and lucky gift o being able to produce his work with extrem japidity. The three acts of the delicious! funny " Mamma," now running at the Cour Theatre, were adapted from the French i exactly seven days 4 and it is very seldor that the actual composition of any piec occupies him for more than three weeki This, notwithstanding that pen-work itsel is a severe labour to him, for he writes peculiarly careful hand, every letter of ever word being scrupulously formed. Many o his plays have realised immense sums. Tha droll little piece the "Arabian Nights, which represented less than a month's wori to the author, yielded no less than £20,00( And, by the way, who knows the history o the " Arabian Nights V Mr Grundy wrot it nearly seven years ago, and sent the MS to Mr Charles Wyndham. Mr Wyndhac pigeon-holed it, as all theatrical manager are supposed to pigeon-hole anything an< everything in the shape of " copy," and ii hia pigeon-hole that little gold mine re tnained for more than six years. Kecoverinj his property last year, Mr Grundy offered i to Mr Hawtrey, by whom the piece wa promptly accepted. It was produced almos without scenery, Mr Hawtrey's tenancy o his theatre being very nearly expired, am •neither he nor tbe author, nor anybod; •else, foresaw the success that was in store Within a few days the receipts were at th rate of £1300 a Week, and very soon Mr Hawtrey found it wort! his while to pay the incoming tenant, Mis Melnotte, £4000 to leave him in possession c his theatre, and seek another for herself elsj where. Mr Grundy is a Manchester man, the so of a well* known Parliamentary solicitor c that city, and he himself is a barrister o nearly 20 years' standing. He has, howevei ceased to .practise, finding sock and buski: more profitabe wear than wig and gown. H lives in solid comfort in South Kensingtor and his hansom cab with the red wheels, am the slim chestnut mare, is a familiar objec at the doors of most of the West En< theatres. " How long have you been associated wit! the theatre, Mr Grundy 1" I inquired. " Since 1872. In that year I wrote a littl piece in one act, and something or other in duced me to have it printed. I printed 5 copies, and sent one to Buckstone at the Haj market with this intimation on the back:- * You may play this for nothing.' In a da; or two I got a letter from Buckstone, sayin, that the piece was in rehearsal. Mr and Mi Kendal played in it ; it had a tremendou success, and ran for exactly one night." •' A tremendous success, and a run of on night ?"— " Yes ; it was Buckstone'g Benefit, and the last night of the season. That gay me my start. The path was pretty clear jus then ; the older men were practically workei out, and the new men were only just comin up. Byron was perhaps the leading drama tic author of that period, and very kind he al ways was to me. I was practising as a barriste in Manchester at that time, but in 1875 gave up the bar, came to London, an started in earnest as a stage writer My firs three-act piece, 'Mammon,' was produced a the Strand ; and since then I have been th author (in whole or part) of about 30 plays including adaptations." "Do you prefer to write alone or in colla boration 1" " I prefer to write alone. And I woul ' write none but original pieces, i rathi. j.j ia j i gQ^ were a 8 gagfly pi ace( j a pieces o. << # s j^ year I have refuse adaptation. >(ggions in the way of adapts W> good comm. nove ls, or for pieces to b tions of plays or . nation with written m collabo. generally speaking Adaptations, however, " work ; and Ima pay better than original « now I have a! say in proof of this that eveu '«\g an origi most as much difficulty in placu -*o," nal piece as I had 10 or 12 years a b extre "I'll note that," I said. "It is an ordinary statement, and one which cau be said to reflect the highest credit on manu gers. Your last production, Mr Grundy, was, I believe, • The Dean's Daughter,' at the ot. James' Theatre?" " Yes. I wrote • The Dean's Daughter ' in Conjunction with my friend Mr Philips, from whose novel of ' The Dean and his Daughter ' (we abbreviated the title to make it look crisper on the bills) it was adapted."

Vanity is perhaps the most amusing of all weaknesses, tint especially is this so when exhibited by men of intellect. Comte SaintSimon, for instance, was a singular compound of energy and vanity, often labouring under absence of mind and forgetfulness of common-sense, which have made him liable to ridicule. His disciples relate that he had scarcely reached his seventeenth year ere «c had himself awakened every morning in these words; « Arise, M. le Oomte; you nave greet things to perform." Of another Frenchman (Montaigne), Hal- »»»» : in his "Literature of Europe," says tl* " vanity led him to talk perpetually oi himself; and, as often happens to vain men, he would rather talk of himself than

of any fofeign'subject." La Place, the great French astronomer, was exceedingly vain of the orders which had been presented to him for his scientific renown. He even had the Star of the Order of the Reunion affixed to his dressing gown. Benvenuto Cellini, the poet, painter, sculptor, jeweller, warrior, universal genius in fact, was intensely vain, and when he wrote his " Memoirs " he committed an inconceivable vanity. He seems to have been in constant controversy with the world about his merits. Like Goldsmith, he ever feared least his " eminence " should get overlooked; and therefore "his instrumentation is marred by the preponderance of the brass." He is always at the great trumpet, blowing for the bare life. Everybody who ; opposes him is wrong ; and not only so, but as it were by the nature of the case, altogether evil-minded and wicked. His unbounded confidence in his superiority over all his contemporaries is most ludicrous. Some of his alleged doings are so absurdly impossible that the reader, weary of laughter, grows angry. " The braggart," he exclaims, " was no doubt a great man in some things ; but the greatest of all men in all things I— it is too much for belief or patience." As it is indeed. Dr Edward Chamberlayne was the author of " Anglias Notitia ; or the Present State of England" (1667), and of various writings religious and political, but of nothing calculated to raise the admiration of his fellow countrymen to any very high degree. His vanity, however, was excessive. We read on his monument in Chelsea Church : "He ' was so studious of doing good to all men, and especially to posterity, that he ordered some of his books, covered with wax, to be buried with him, which may be of use in times to come." More than a century having elapsed, it was thought posterity might claim its own; and so the place of deposit of the intellectual treasures was opened. But, alas 1 the labours of the seekers had been anticipated by Time, who had so injured the tomb that nooks and crannies were opened for the admission of air and moisture. When the interior was examined scarcely a trace of the mystic volumes remained behind 1 What may we not have lost ! Of similar mind to Dr Chamberlayne was the Sweede who wrote a treatise on the Swedish Constitution, and proved it to be indissoluble and eternal. Just as he had corrected the pioofs of the last sheet news arrived that Gustavus 111 had destroyed this immortal Government. "Sir," quoth the vain author, " the King of Sweden may overthrow the constitution, but not my book." In 1641 Sir Richard jjßaker published his " Chronicle of the Kings of England from the Time of the Romans' Government unto the Death of King James." This work, the author complacently declares, " was collected with so great care and diligence that if al] other of our chronicles were lost his only would be sufficient to inform posterity of all passages memorable or worthy to be known." M. Dumont, the celebrated jurisconsult oi Geneva, has left an interesting sketch oi Paine, the author of " The Age of Reason " ;— "His egregious conceit and presumptuous self-sufficiently quite disgusted me. He was drunk with vanity. If you believed him, it was he who had done everything in America, He was an absolute caricature of the vainest oi Frenchmen, He fancied that his book upon the • Rights of Man ' ought to replace every other book in the world; and he told me roundly that if it were in his power to exterminate every library in existence he would do so without hesitation, in order to eradicate the errors they contain, and begin, with the ' Rights of Man,' a new chain of ideas and principles. He knew all his own writings by heart, but he knew nothing else." " I like," wrote the Ettrick Shepherd, " tc write about myself; in fact, there are fevs things which Flike better." And this was literally true. In a long and entertaining memoir of himself, attached to an edition oi " The Altrine Tales," every page is impressed with it ; he never loses sight of the hero oi the narrative. Vanity took another shape with the Rev Edward Young, the author of "Night Thoughts." He was extremenly vain of hi? oratorical talents. On one occasion, when preaching at St. James', he perceived that it was out of his power to command the &ttention of his congregation, notwithstanding the grace and animation of his delivery ; this so affected him that he sat back in the pulpit and burst into tears. Queen Elizabeth, no mean author, was one of the vainest of the vain. When her wrinkles waxed 'deep and fmany, it is raported that an unfortunate Master of the Mint incurred disgrace by a too faithful shilling ; the die was broken, and only one mutilated impression is now in existence. Her maids oi honour took the hint, and were henceforth careful that no fragment of lookingglass should remain in any room in the palace which she frequented. At a very advanced period of her reign she bestowed or her " illustrious spy," as the dearest token oi her esteem, a likeness of herself, painted during the lifetime of her father, bearing this inscription, by herself — The Queen to Walsinghara this tablet sent, Mark of her people's and her own content. Baron Grimm emulated the virgin Queer it England in being also remarkably' fond oi <. unpromising person. His toilet was ar an • of the utmost importance ; red and affair -«tnt were always to be found on his white pa Moule had not the least effect ir table. Rici > folly; but, being accustomec repressing hi& - Jie> received and returned to good society, ■? the pleasantries called with a good grace his almost feminim down upon him by coquetries. vjj the interest 6i Derrick, the poet, thr.o% "-^ of the cere< his friends, was made masu '<ttion he dis monies at Bath. In this situ* %nd show played his fondness for pomp .. > kept c His dress was always fine, and he Hsitec footman as fine "as himself. When he \ <ac London his footman always walked beh, <• him ; and to show that he was his servant, Derrick would generally cross the street several times that the man might be seen to follow him. Boswell was always earning some ridiculous nickname, and then " binding it as a crown ' unto him," not merely ia metaphor, but literally. He exhibited himself at the Shakespeare Jubilee, to all the cro\^L which filled Stratford-on-Avon with a placard

round his hat bearing the inscription, • in large letters, of " Corsica Boswell 1" In his !♦ Tour " he proclaimed to all the world that in Edinburgh he was known by the appellation of " Paoli Boswell." He was so vain of the most childish distinctions that when he had been to court he drove to the office where his book was printing, without changing his clothes, and summoned all the people there to admire his new ruffles and sword.