This fairy spectacle has enabled me to form some notion of the nature of those splendid historical representations, such as the coronation of George IV., which frequently amuse the Londoners for a hundred successive nights. Napoleon's marriage, I believe, furnished the subject of one of these historico-dramatic entertainments.

LETTER XXXIV.

TO M. C. GOSSELIN.

THERE are better tragic actors in London than in Paris, where, for my part, I generally feel very much inclined to fall asleep during the performance of a tragedy. In Paris, tragedy is a literary entertainment, and in London a dramatic treat. This is as much owing to the difference of acting, as to the difference of style in tragic composition. Our comic performers, however, evince better taste than the English. Not but that the theatre of the Rue Richelieu may be severely criticised, even in comedy; and I doubt whether it could bring together, in every piece, four actors, equal in talent to those whom I saw the other night at Covent Garden, in the "School for Scandal."

Farren in Sir Peter Teazle, Young in Joseph Surface, Charles Kemble in Charles, Liston in Sir Benjamin Backbite, and Fawcett in Sir Oliver, are each almost perfect in their particular line. Mrs. Davison, in Lady Teazle, appeared to me superior to any actress I have yet seen in London; for the famous Mrs. Jordan, whom the English compared to Mademoiselle Mars, is no more, and Miss Kelly is not engaged either at Covent Garden or Drury Lane.

Farren, though still very young, is a finished comic actor. He has a fund of humour, and gives an appearance of truth to the most grotesque caricatures. Yet, in the higher walks of comedy, he never loses sight of nature, and always shews singular discernment in the conception of his parts. There is something extremely odd in the play of his countenance. His features sometimes remain during a whole scene as immoveable as those of a mask, and then, all of a sudden, are made to express the feeling which agitates him with extraordinary flexibility. He is admirable in Lovegold, which is Molière's Harpagon clothed in an English dress by Fielding; in Lord Ogleby, the model of the Ci-devant jeune homme; and he is the only actor who has successfully personated one of the finest creations of Sir Walter Scott's fancy, namely, Isaac of York. Farren represents, with admirable correctness, the crouching humility of the old Jew, and the habits which he has contracted, through age and continual distrust, until terror and misfortune drive him to despair. He is no

less successful in the expression of paternal affection, which is developed with a degree of energy proportionate to the strength of character which enabled him so long to dissemble his passions. When the old man learns that no ransom will purchase his daughter's freedom, the pride and boldness with which he rises from his attitude of supplication before Front-de-Boeuf, almost elevate him to the dignity of a hero.

In Sir Peter Teazle, Farren's humour and originality are extremely entertaining.

The part of Joseph Surface is admirably performed by Young. Macready also fills it with success. These two actors, when they assume the modern dress, have the air and the manners of perfect gentlemen. Young, indeed, displays at times a slight tinge of affectation, while Macready's deportment is perfectly unconstrained and graceful. He always maintains a suitable degree of dignity, without ever losing his natural ease. I saw him again last night in Count Almaviva, and I must needs confess that he has more of the nobleman, in look and manner, than M. D who so often injures the effect of his acting by his frightful grimaces and the awkward movements of his shoulders.

-S,

Charles Kemble's performance in the School for Scandal, and, indeed, generally speaking, whenever he appears in comedy, is distinguished by an air of elegance; but his talent is more particularly adapted to parts which have somewhat of a romantic cast.

Liston fills but a subordinate character in the School for Scandal, but it was sufficient to satisfy me with respect to his talent, which I fancied had been rather overrated when I saw him for the first time in Figaro. This actor, whose countenance is quite as ludicrous as that of Potier, may rival him as well as Brunet, Perlet, Odry, and all the great men of our minor theatres, in buffoonery.

Liston is the spoiled child of the pit and galleries. Like Potier, he has the privilege of making people laugh by a look. Henry B informs

me that when Liston entered upon his theatrical career, he persuaded himself that he possessed a talent for tragedy, but he excited such bursts of laughter in the performance of a pathetic part, that he made up his mind to represent, in future, none but humourous characters. He made but a poor figure lately, at his own benefit, in an attempt at genteel comedy.*

*I here omit some quotations from Sheridan's play, because the "School for Scandal" having been imitated by Chéron, translated in the Theatres étrangers, and lately transferred, with some mutilations, to the boards of one of our minor theatres, is better known in France than any other English comedy. I have also left out a comparison, which, I doubt not, has already been made between the scene in which Mrs. Candour, Lady Sneerwell, &c. launch into attacks on their friends, and one in the Misanthrope, in which Molière has almost lent grace to the malice of our fair and fashionable scandal-mongers. The latter scene could not be duly appreciated except in Paris; while on the contrary, Mrs. Candour's tittle-tattle would produce a greater effect in the country. Both scenes are true to nature; Molière's is most refined—Sheridan's is most highly coloured.

The theatrical season is now near a close, and benefits and dramatic transformations have commenced. The performers, at their benefits, usually make choice of a new character, and it rarely happens that they select one adapted to their powers. In Paris, on a similar occasion, I remember to have seen Mademoiselle Duchesnois make but an awkward figure in the part of a little country girl, while her rival of the Odéon rendered herself ridiculous in the Countess Almaviva. This performance, it is true, was worth thirty thousand francs to Mademoiselle Georges, and many demean themselves for less now-a-days.

This year Mr. Kean revived an old play of Massinger's, called The Roman Actor, of which only one act was played; and in the little piece of "The Waterman" he descended to the comic character of Tom Tug. He applied the produce of these representations for the relief of the poor Irish; and as the English pride themselves very much on their generosity in succouring the distressed, I was surprised at not finding the theatre full. Alas! there is a little quackery and ostentation in the boasted generosity of the English, as there is in almost all their pretensions to superior virtue. Open a subscription at a guinea a head, and advertize the names of the principal subscribers in the newspapers, and the list will soon be filled up; but the anonymous benefaction conferred by the purchase of a play-ticket, is not so satisfactory to British vanity. Kean's benefit usually puts five hundred guineas in his pocket;