im for not having all the qualities of an author whom
he probably has no desire to imitate. False friends of T.W. Robertson
called him the "modern Sheridan." Few writers are more dissimilar.
Robertson in his dialogue and construction imitated the modern French
dramatists; Sheridan, the old English, Congreve, Farquhar and
Wycherley. Robertson especially delighted in love-scenes--there are
generally two at least in each of his comedies: I cannot remember one
in any of Sheridan's. The dialogue of the author of the _School for
Scandal_ is artificial and glittering--that of the author of _School_
is generally more natural, and always less brilliant. They have,
however, one point in common: they both practiced Moliere's maxim, _Je
prends mon bien ou je le trouve_. They both unhesitatingly
plagiarized. Robertson in particular easily assimilated foreign
matter. He turned _Le Degel_ and _Les Ganaches_ of M. Sardou into _A
Rapid Thaw_ and _Progress_. _David Garrick_ was taken from _Dr.
Robin_, a French play, itself imitated from the German. _Home_ closely
follows _L'Aventuriere_ of M. Emile Augier. Madame de Girardin's _La
Joie fait peur_, previously translated by Mr. G.H. Lewes as _Sunshine
through the Clouds_, gave Robertson the situation of the last act of
_War_: Mr. Dion Boucicault has since deftly adapted the same
delightful little piece under the name of _Kerry, or Night and
Morning_. The Cinderella-like plot of _School_ is taken from the
_Aschenbroedel_ of Roderick Benedix: the school examination was
suggested by a French vaudeville, _En classe, mesdemoiselles!_ The
part of Beau Farintosh is a weak revival of Garrick's Lord Chalkstone
and Colman and Garrick's Lord Ogleby; and the strong situation in the
fourth act is imitated from _Les Beaux Messieurs de Bois-Dore_ of
George Sand.

But Robertson is decidedly strongest when he walks without crutches.
His own original plays, _Society, Caste, Ours_, are by far his best. A
foreign support made him limp. Of all his adaptations, _home_ alone
is really good: most of the others failed. Although that cosmopolitan
mosaic _School_ has been the most successful of his pieces in
London--it has passed its five hundredth night--it is by no means the
best. Success is not necessarily a test of real merit. Evidently,
_School_ has the elements of popularity, although it is a very weak
piece, although it is full of foreign matter, and although it violates
that most necessary rule of dramatic