University of Virginia Library

PLACIDE.

Doubtless three as good actors as Hilson, Barnes,
and Placide, are to be found; but it would be extremely
difficult to get three together with qualities
so finely balanced—so excellent, yet so dissimilar,
that in whatever requisites one is comparatively
poor, another is proportionably rich—three who
will play with equal spirit and effect in the same
piece, and appear as frequently together without
jostling each other. There is something pleasing,
and to those who know any thing of the everlasting
feuds and jealousies of a green-room, something
astonishing in the uninterrupted harmony with
which, season after season, these gentlemen, “labor
in their vocation.” They are a worthy triumvirate—three
public benefactors, to whom the citizens
ought to be grateful; for their talents have
often given them pleasure in exchange for care;

and many a merry hour and joyous laugh has been
the result of their exertions.

Four or five years ago, Placide's abilities were
but little known. He had risen from the lowest
walks of the drama, and, as is common in such
cases, the admiration of the audience did not keep
pace with his increasing merit. They were slow
to believe that one whom they had long been in
the habit of regarding as not above mediocrity,
could ever attain excellence, and strangers were
often astonished at the slight estimation in which
he was held. This is human nature: we are unwilling
to give up early impressions, or retract expressed
opinions. Had a strange actor of equal
merits and some reputation, appeared before the
same audience, he would instantly have become an
object of unmingled admiration. This, however,
could not last, and the unequivocal ability displayed
by Placide in some parts commanded praise—
praise attracted attention, and that was all that was
wanted. Since that time he has steadily and rapidly
advanced in public estimation—he has never
once receded, and his course is still onward.

To speak of Placide apart from the character he
represents, is difficult. We know that there are a
string of set phrases going the rounds of the press,
concerning actors “identifying themselves with the

part they play,” and “losing themselves in the character
they represent,” &c. and, in some sense, this
is true, seeing that they frequently lose themselves,
the character, the author, and the audience; but
in reality, there is not one man in a thousand who
possesses the gift of making the audience forget the
actor in the part. Even in Kean it was sometimes
wanting. It is the highest kind of praise; and as
it appears to be fast becoming a settled rule, that
all praise, to be worth the having, must be in the
superlative, a quality that is peculiar to the few,
has been awarded without scruple to the million.
Indeed, so very loosely and indiscriminately are
these phrases applied, that we should not be surprised
to see one of them tacked to a commendation
of Barnes, who seldom or never “identifies”
himself with any thing, but simply plays Barnes,
let him appear in what he will; and so amusing
and successful is he in that character, that he cannot
do better than stick to it.—But Placide has in
truth the faculty of appearing to be the character
he assumes; and we would instance as a strong
proof of the soundness of this assertion, that of all
the imitations of celebrated actors that have been
given in this city, not one has been attempted of
Placide. And why is this? For the simple reason
that he has no peculiarities common to all his
characters, and the imitation would not be recognized
unless the audience had seen him in the part
imitated. Not so with many—Barnes, for instance.
Let a good imitation of him be given in any character,
and though nine-tenths of the audience have
never seen him in that peculiar character, the general
resemblance will be instantly appreciated.

In articles like the present, which must of necessity
be brief, it would be impossible to enter into a
minute examination of the various excellencies of
Mr. Placide, in the wide range of parts in which he
appears. There are three distinct classes in which
he is without an equal, namely, old men, or rather
middle-aged gentlemen, drunken servants, and kind-hearted,
simple country lads. As a sample of the
three we would instance the Marquis in the Cabinet,
Antonio in the Marriage of Figaro, and Zekiel
Homespun in the Heir at Law. In the last he
would probably be successful either at Drury Lane
or Covent Garden. Upon the whole, he is a fine
—almost a faultless actor, with a rich natural vein
of humor, free from the alloy of buffoonery.