The Play.

The editorial mind was so prejudiced on the question of the play that it sought an able and unbiassed critic, who writes as follows :—

This term the College made its first sustained dramatic effort by a performance of Sir G. O. Trevelyan's extravaganza, 'Horace at Athens." The nephew and biographer of Lord Macaulay was something of a humorist in his University days, a fact which would hardly be suspected by those who have watched his later heavy politicial performances. "Horace at Athens" is a fair specimen of that special form of Varsity wit, which consists in adapting classical names and usages to modern conditions, making .classical personages throw in 'Varsity tags and slang, and airing College grievances through the pompous utterances of Roman orators and states-men. There is a good deal of that sort of thing scattered through the pages of the University magazines. But "Horace at Athens" has lived, and has served the purposes of two generations of undergraduates, both in the new and the old world. It is a good representation of undergraduate life and thought; and, being itself a sort of mixture of Horace and Shakespeare's "Julius Cæsar," abundantly re-cast, it affords scope and still further adaption to local circumstances. The Oxford and Cambridge touches must of course be replaced by more familiar allusions. In the recent performance this was carried out with considerable success. Local allusion fell with a sort of soothing effect on the ears of a miscellaneous auditory, most of whom had but a vague idea what it was all about.

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Then the pathos of Decius Mus's forlorn situation appealed to them, when he told the heartless Lydia—

"And for your sake uncounted sums there be
Owing at Godber's and to D.I.C."
And when Caius enquires of Sem pronius Viridis,
"If you've been up Mount Salamanca, and if I'm right
That-hill is chosen for the College site,"

people began to feel as much at home in those queer old times as the congregation, who, in the middle of an abstruse theological discourse, were occasionally refreshed by "that blessed word, Mesopotamia." So, to, our spirits, chafing under the sore of a recent wrong, were solaced when Brutus flung out out his bitter taunt—

"You've taken contracts in far Argentina,
For frozen mutton for our soldier's food,
Wherein Zealandia—sending us her aid
Because she loved us—was slighted off."

Touches of this sort helped to give brightness to the performance, which had two difficulties to contend with, a certain inexperience on the part of the actors, and a certain chronic belwilderment on the part of the audience. Occasionally voices sank to indistinctness, and occasionally our stately Romans strutted somewhat uncomfortably in tunic and buskin. But the abandon, which gives freedom and life to a piece, comes not in a day; and, considering that many of the actors were only passing thei matriculation in the dramatic art, the performance was not without encouragement for the future.

That disinterested person, Lydia, who prefers verses to purses, was presented in a fascinating manner by R. M. Watson, all in flaxen curls and pale blue drapery. She tripped in airy fashion, too, and the "fellow commoners. Smith's, prizemen, senior wranglers," and "Herman and Orelli," came tripping off her saucy tongue. G. Toogood was Horace, looking the part, but sometimes indistinct. He was more effective in the easy-going Freshman Horace of the earlier scenes than in the Horace exercising a wise discretion at Philippi, and appealing to Augustus for the restoration of his lost love. F. de la Mare was appropriately sepulchral and melancholic as the discarded lover, Decius Mus; and his deep-hearted appeal and vows of vengeance occasionally shook the building, if they did not shake the heart of Lydia. As Augustus, J. Graham sat on a throne, with a most striking cap on, and delivered his lines with a marvellous elocutionery distinctness. The Augustus of this burlesque is a mixture of the Official College Visitor, adjusting college abuses, the literary critic, who appreciates a clever parody, and the successful Roman general, who disposes of prisoners and rebels—a somewhat subtle mixture for representation. A. G. Quartley was Brutus; sometimes recruiting; sometimes spouting tags of Shakespeare, sometimes talking in language of the drill-book to his motley army. With him was A. H. Bogle, as Cassius, who proves himself a low fellow at the final crisis. The Balbus and Caius of Henry's First Latin Book were here in the persons of A. G. Tudhope and S. W. Fitzherbert. Some veterans in the room wore a smile tinged with sadness at the resuscitation of those long-buried heroes, whose doings and opinions, conveyed in short Latin sentences, had thrilled their boyish days. G. V. Bogle was innocent enough as Sempronius Viridis, the "Verdant-Green" of the Athens University. I. M. Batham was the Vice-Chancellor, admitting Maecenas, W. Loudon, to an Honorary'Dlegree in a medley of appropriate Horation phrases. R. Beere was ghostly as the page 35 Ghost of Cæsar, who makes the historic appointment with Brutus in gruesome Anapaests. The great stage of the Sydney Street Theatre was taxed to its utmost capacity to accommodate the moving hosts, crowds of students, body guards, etc., which seemed to bring the old Romans Hellenic life before a modern audience.

After the play the Romans foregathered in the supper room, and asked Mr. Nicholls to accept a walking stick as a momento of the good times past—hurried rehearsals enlivened by his racy wit and good-fellowship. Professor Maclaurin made the presentation.