much about the power of her eye in one fixed look, and
the expression she could concentrate in a single word, that the utmost
results could only satisfy my expectations. It is, indeed, something
magnificent to see the dark cloud give out such sparks, each one fit
to deal a separate death; but it was not that I admired most in her.
It was the grandeur, truth, and depth of her conception of each part,
and the sustained purity with which she represented it.

The French language from her lips is a divine dialect; it is stripped
of its national and personal peculiarities, and becomes what any
language must, moulded by such a genius, the pure music of the heart
and soul. I never could remember her tone in speaking any word; it
was too perfect; you had received the thought quite direct. Yet, had
I never heard her speak a word, my mind would be filled by her
attitudes. Nothing more graceful can be conceived, nor could the
genius of sculpture surpass her management of the antique drapery.

She has no beauty, except in the intellectual severity of her outline,
and she bears marks of race, that will grow stronger every year,
and make her ugly at last. Still it will be a _grandiose_, gypsy,
or rather Sibylline ugliness, well adapted to the expression of some
tragic parts. Only it seems as if she could not live long; she expends
force enough upon a part to furnish out a dozen common lives.

TO R.W.E.

_Paris, Jan_. 18, 1847.--I can hardly tell you what a fever consumes
me, from sense of the brevity of my time and opportunity. Here I
cannot sleep at night, because I have been able to do so little in
the day. Constantly I try to calm my mind into content with small
achievements, but it is difficult. You will say, it is not so mightily
worth knowing, after all, this picture and natural history of Europe.
Very true; but I am so constituted that it pains me to come away,
having touched only the glass over the picture.

I am assiduous daily at the Academy lectures, picture galleries,
Chamber of Deputies,--last week, at the court and court ball. So far
as my previous preparation enabled me, I get something from all these
brilliant shows,--thoughts, images, fresh impulse. But I need,
to initiate me into various little secrets of the place and
time,--necessary for me to look at things to my satisfaction,--some
friend, such as I do not find here. My steps have not been fortunate
in Paris, as they were in England. No doubt, the pe