short,
all our actors were good--excepting Talma. My saying this will no
doubt make my readers laugh. The fact is, that Talma, who acted
lovers' parts with us, was so awkward and diffident that no one could
then possibly have foreseen how great an actor he would become. My
surprise was therefore very great when I saw our leading man surpass
Larive and take the place of Lekain. But the time it took to operate
this change, and all of the same kind, proves to me that the dramatic
talent takes longer to reach perfection than any other.

One evening, when I had invited a dozen or more friends to hear a
recital by the poet Lebrun, and while we were waiting for them, my
brother read aloud to me a few pages of "Anacharsis." Arriving at the
place where, in the description of a Greek dinner, the method of
preparing various sauces is explained, "We ought," said my brother,
"to try this to-night." I at once ordered up my cook and instructed
her properly, deciding that she was to make a certain sauce for the
chicken and another for the eel. As I was expecting some very pretty
women, I conceived the idea of Greek costumes, in order to give M. de
Vaudreuil and M. Boutin a surprise, knowing they would not arrive
until ten o'clock. My studio, full of things I used for draping my
models, would furnish me with enough material for garments, and the
Count de Parois, who lived in my house in the Rue de Clery, owned a
superb collection of Etruscan pottery. It happened that he came to see
me that evening. I confided my project to him, so that he supplied me
with a number of drinking-cups and vases, from among which I took my
choice. I cleaned all these articles myself, and arranged them on a
table of mahogany without a tablecloth. This done, I put behind the
chairs a large screen, which I took the precaution of concealing under
some hangings looped up at intervals, as may be seen in Poussin's
pictures. A hanging lamp threw a strong light on the table. All was
now prepared except my costumes, when Joseph Vernet's daughter, the
charming Mme. Chalgrin, was first to arrive. I immediately took her in
hand, doing her hair and dressing her up. Then came Mme. de Bonneuil,
so remarkable for her beauty, and Mme. Vigee, my sister-in-law, who,
without being pretty, had the most beautiful eyes imaginable. And
there they were, all three, metamorphosed into veritable Athenians.
Lebrun came in; we wiped off his powder, undid his side curls, and put
a wreath