l ill
and died, and it never was my good fortune to see that great actor.
Mademoiselle Mars I have seen, and, certainly, in her line of
characters, I have never beheld her equal. Indeed, it is scarcely
possible to conceive of a purer, more severe, more faultless, and yet
more poetical representation of common nature, than that which
characterizes her art. Her acting has all the finish of high breeding,
with just as much feeling as is necessary to keep alive the illusion. As
for rant, there is not as much about her whole system, as would serve a
common English, or American actress, for a single "length."

To be frank with you, so great is the superiority of the French actors,
in _vaudevilles_, the light opera, and genteel comedy, that I fear I
have lost my taste for the English stage. Of tragedy I say nothing, for
I cannot enter into the poetry of the country at all, but, in all below
it, these people, to my taste, are immeasurably our superiors; and by
_ours_, you know I include the English stage. The different lines here,
are divided among the different theatres; so that if you wish to laugh,
you can go to the Varietes; to weep, to the Theatre Francais; or, to
gape, to the Odeon. At the Porte St. Martin, one finds vigorous touches
of national character, and at the Gymnase, the fashionable place of
resort, just at this moment, national traits polished by convention.
Besides these, there are many other theatres, not one of which, in its
way, can be called less than tolerable.

One can say but little in favour of the morals of too many of the pieces
represented here. In this particular there is a strange obliquity of
reason, arising out of habitual exaggeration of feeling, that really
seems to disqualify most of the women, even from perceiving what is
monstrous, provided it be sentimental and touching. I was particularly
advised to go to the Theatre Madame to see a certain piece by a
_coterie_ of very amiable women, whom I met the following night at a
house where we all regularly resorted, once a week. On entering, they
eagerly inquired if "I had not been charmed, fascinated; if any thing
could be better played, or more touching?" Better played it could not
easily be, but I had been so shocked with the moral of the piece, that I
could scarcely admire the acting. "The moral! This was the first time
they had heard it questioned." I was obliged to explain. A certain
person had been left the protector of a friend's daughter,