Originally published in The Man in the Moon (David Bogue) vol.1 #1 (Jan 1847).
The Lyceum opened its winter campaign on Monday, the 21st ult., with a stage version of Mr. Charles Dickens's Christmas Book, "The Battle of Life." As one of the editors of this little brochure was the dramatist on the occasion, the criticism, it is hoped, may be regarded as a truthful one; and also as an earnest of the spirit of those which are to follow.
The piece owed its success entirely to two sources—the prestige attached to the name of Mr. Dickens, and the unequalled acting of Mrs. Keeley. Where it failed, and how it was within a hair's-breadth of condemnation, we will now try to show. In the first place, it was utterly impossible, in a dramatic point of view, to create the slightest interest in the feelings of the audience for the sisters Marion and Grace. Miss Daly did her best, and Miss May tried to do it, to make the part effective; but, with the most wonderful acting that our present stage could offer, no ordinary person, who paid his money simply to be amused, and to have his mere superficial feelings excited—which is not an idiosyncrasy of playgoers altogether to be overlooked—could be made to care a mental twopence, at the end of the second act, what became of either of the young ladies; and, as the drama was in three acts, this was essentially fatal to its great success.
Again, it was a delicate business to interfere with the text of an author, when the right of dramatising his work was obtained by a private arrangement. Otherwise, the interest of the play might possibly have been increased by letting the audience a little more into the secret of Marion's determination—by cutting away a good half of the sentimental dialogue, and substituting in its place such commonplace talk as might explain more clearly the motives leading to her supposed elopement.
A story of a limited number of scenes, like those which form the Christmas books of Mr. Dickens, does not afford those chances of being turned into an effective drama which a regular novel presents. The exigencies of the stage are satisfied with difficulty. It will happen that dresses have to be changed, and, perhaps, troublesome "sets" arranged, one immediately upon the other. A scene must then be, of necessity, interposed. This occurred in the drama in question, between the stolen interview and the ball. It was absolutely necessary to give time to the carpenters and dressers, and there was little material in the book to found this on. A squabble between the lawyers and their wives was all that presented itself; and their sentiments were gleaned, as carefully as possible, from the descriptive text of the story. It was a "slow'" scene, we admit, and, perhaps, for this the dramatist was solely in fault; but it was all that could be done, with a wish to keep to the original author.
It should also be recollected that much of Mr. Dickens's popularity has arisen from the charming truth of his very graphic descriptions. These, as pictures, are utterly useless on the stage; elsewise, his beautiful opening of the battle-field, and his humorous sketch of the office of Snitchey and Craggs, would gladly have been laid hold of.
Mr. Albert Smith appeared before the curtain at the end of the play, in answer to the call, but rather to comply with the wish of the fair manageress, and to acknowledge the compliment from an audience to whose verdict he had some half-dozen times submitted his share in as many productions, than from the most remote wish to arrogate to himself any share, beyond that of the mere scissors-and-paste playwright, in whatever success "The Battle of Life" achieved as a drama.
On the whole, it was well played. Mrs. Keeley was beyond herself in Clemency Newcombe; Mr. Keeley careful and quaint, as Britain; Mr. F. Mathews hearty and good-humoured, as Dr. Jeddler; Mr. Meadows dry and worldly, as Mr. Snichey; and Mr. Leigh Murray gentlemanly and effective, as Alfred.