We are sorry to see Mr. Toole, who is a
comedian of real genius, with a great power of pathos as well as humour, condescending to act in such a senseless burlesque as the " Princess of Trebizonde," at the Gaiety Theatre,—a piece at which it is simply impossible even to force a smile. In that sort of thing, where all depends on paint, gesticulation, extravagant costume, and the power of jumping about and making a noise, a fine actor is simply thrown away. We at least can imagine nothing in what we saw which would not have been rather more amusing if done by puppets with an artifi- cial speaking apparatus, and nothing, except the operatic singing, which might not have been so done with a little expenditure of mechanical skill. It is the sort of thing which makes a man feel hot to think that any one else could suppose it would amuse him. What a contrast, too, to the first piece, "The First Night," in which Mr. Alfred Wigan plays with such inimitable humour the vain, plotting old French actor, who is bent on obtaining a great stage success for his daughter! That is real relaxation for the mind, while "The Princess of Trebizonde" appears designed for the very purpose of making it as impossible to distinguish the good actors from the bad, as it would be to discriminate between the quality of Miss Neilson's voice and her maid's, if both were simply shrieking in conoert.
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