ian, and that we had a baby in the nursery who I
thought must be a great tragedian too, for she did nothing but cry, and
what was that if not tragedy?--which edifying discourse found its way
back to my mother, to whom Talma laughingly repeated it. I have heard my
father say that on the occasion of this visit of Talma's to London, he
consulted my uncle on the subject of acting in English. Hamlet was one
of his great parts, and he made as fine a thing of Ducis' cold, and
stiff, and formal adaptation of Shakespeare's noble work as his meagre
material allowed; but, as I have said before, he spoke English well, and
thought it not impossible to undertake the part in the original
language. My uncle, however, strongly dissuaded him from it, thinking
the decided French accent an insuperable obstacle to his success, and
being very unwilling that he should risk by a failure in the attempt his
deservedly high reputation. A friend of mine, at a dinner party, being
asked if she had seen Mr. Fechter in Hamlet, replied in the negative,
adding that she did not think she should relish Shakespeare declaimed
with a foreign accent. The gentleman who had questioned her said, "Ah,
very true indeed--perhaps not;" then, looking attentively at his plate,
from which I suppose he drew the inspiration of what followed, he added,
"And yet--after all, you know, Hamlet was a foreigner." This view of the
case had probably not suggested itself to John Kemble, and so he
dissuaded Talma from the experiment. While referring to Mr. Fechter's
personification of Hamlet, and the great success which it obtained in
the fashionable world, I wish to preserve a charming instance of naive
ignorance in a young guardsman, seduced by the enthusiasm of the gay
society of London into going, for once, to see a play of Shakespeare's.
After sitting dutifully through some scenes in silence, he turned to a
fellow-guardsman, who was painfully looking and listening by his side,
with the grave remark, "I say, George, _dooced_ odd play this; its all
full of quotations." The young military gentleman had occasionally, it
seems, heard Shakespeare quoted, and remembered it.

To return to my story. About this time it was determined that I should
be sent to school in France. My father was extremely anxious to give me
every advantage that he could, and Boulogne, which was not then the
British Alsatia it afterwards became, and where there was a girl's
school of some reputation, was chosen