There is something very human in the belief; few of us have sufficient self-confidence to fancy that the public does more than glance at a notice to discover what sort of piece it deals with, and whether it was well received, and is the sort of thing the reader wants to see; and we fear there is only a very small percentage that pays any attention to our finest phrases, aptest quotations, and subtlest evidence of acquaintance with the easy aids to universal knowledge.
Indeed, we have a humiliating certainty that our friends would never get beyond the account of the plot and the reception and remarks about individual performers in whom they happen to take particular interest, friendly or otherwise. Moreover, it is to be noted that the public has come to doubt the value of the first-night receptions which we record, the fact being incontestable that a good deal of the applause is quite unreal.
Perhaps an advantage of the répétition générale system will be that if the managements can only persuade their friends that it is more chic to be at the répétition than the first performance we shall have genuine audiences at premières, whose verdict will be of real weight.
There are certain difficulties about the new system. The invitation performance is an admirable means for the manufacture of enmities: to classify one's friends into boxes, stalls, dress circle, etc., is no doubt to have a delightful opportunity of snubbing people, but it is sure to breed bitter quarrels; whilst on the other hand, to let the guests shift for themselves creates no little trouble and imposes a very difficult task upon the attendants. It sounds easy under such circumstances to reserve places for the critics, but unless they come a long time in advance they are not likely to get them.
[His Fear of Libel Actions ]
Some while ago—it was in 1902-1903—the critics were aghast—editors, too, perhaps. Mr Justice Ridley had permitted a jury to give £100 as damages for libel in respect of a dramatic criticism less severe than dozens that most of us have written: it was said that some critics consulted their solicitors as to the best means of rendering their property "judgment proof"—a picturesque term that comes from America.
Later on the Court of Appeal interfered effectively, though possibly many actions were begun and settled before the appeal was heard; and it was held that in a libel action founded upon a criticism written concerning a work of art, unless there is some evidence of malice it is the judge's duty to consider whether the criticism can fairly be construed as being outside the range of fair comment, and if he thinks that the comments lie within the range of criticism he should decide the case in favour of the defendant, and not let it go to the jury. Then the critics breathed again, and the story goes that Fleet Street laid in a large stock of vitriol.
The next, and at present last, act in the matter was the recovery by Mr Frederick Moy Thomas of £300 damages for a libel which appeared in Punch upon his book called "Fifty Years of Fleet Street." Although the matter related to a book, and not to a play, the dramatic critics felt anxious again, because no distinction could be drawn between criticisms upon the two kinds of work. The case was peculiarly interesting to the dramatic critics because the plaintiff, who had been one of our craft for some length of time, enjoyed the reputation of being very learned in matters connected with the drama, as well as sound and conscientious.
Moreover, his father, William Moy Thomas, whose name was introduced into the case, was for many years past one of the most esteemed and admired of our profession, owing to his knowledge, fairness, judgment and excellence of style. The Court of Appeal upheld the verdict, and Punch's record of long existence without a verdict against it for libel is spoilt. Its licence, the licence of a nation's jester, has been endorsed.
It may be asked whether this is not a mere matter for the craft: in reality the public is concerned. The letter written by one friend to another, gossiping about a play or a book or a picture, exposes the writer to an action for libel unless it can be protected on the ground of truth, privilege or fair comment; and casually written remarks concerning any matter of public interest may result in damages and costs. Indeed, to put the matter simply, the professional critics have no greater rights or privileges of criticism than any member of the public. It is therefore very important to all of us to know how the matter stands, and since the judgment of the Master of the Rolls is rather technical, it seems worth while briefly to state the law in unscientific phrases.