the most fascinating style imaginable. But her intelligent and expressive countenance, and her natural gaiety of manner, are her principal charms. When she has to enact parts which are unsuited to her stature, she seems to anticipate the moment when her natural expression will fail her, and she defeats the difficulty by some ingenious stroke of humour. But in parts to which her person is adapted, she displays all that childish grace and ease which art can but imperfectly imitate. She is an admirable representative of a mischievous little boy. In characters like this she is no longer an actress, but a most engaging child: she does not surprise, but she interests and amuses.

I cannot bestow a higher tribute of praise on Emery, than by comparing him to Michot. Both are alike remarkable for vigour and sensibility. Emery and Michot, are the only actors I know of, who possess the art of naturally pourtraying rudeness of manners, combined with delicacy of feeling, and the union of passion and simplicity, which are the distinguishing characteristics of men who are called singular, because, amidst the refinements of civilization, they have preserved the primitive energy of nature. Emery particularly reminded me of Michot in Madame de Sevigné, for he excels in the representation of rustic characters, to which he gives a various, but always perfectly natural colouring. There is a certain seriousness in his manner of representing Farmer Ashfield, who often excites a smile by his familiarity and awkwardness, but who, nevertherless, pre

In

serves all the dignity of a man, and commands respect by his noble sentiments and conduct. parts, such as Tyke, in the School of Reform, and Giles, in the Miller's Maid, where passion is excited to enthusiasm, or even phrenzy, Emery is tragical, without losing sight of the vulgarity which belongs to his character, and he produces the liveliest emotions of terror and pity. Finally, he is exclusively comic, when the originality of his part consists in external manner, rather than in any peculiarity of sentiment or character. But even in this line of parts, Emery never degenerates into caricature; he still remains true to nature, when he excites the loudest bursts of laughter.

Emery speaks in perfection one of those provincial dialects, which produce as ludicrous an effect on the English stage as the Auvergnat or Gascon accent do on ours. He excels in giving a comical turn to the Yorkshire accent; but, before his time, the Somersetshire dialect was usually employed on the stage for the amusement of the London cockneys, who, like their Parisian brethren, are very much given to ridicule every jargon except their own.*

* Emery died since this letter was written.

LETTER XXXVIII.

TO M. CH. NODIER.

1

YOUR interesting account of Miss Kelly, rendered me so curious to see her, that I cannot deny myself the pleasure of describing to you the impression which her acting produced on me. I have not your letter before me, and I may, per. haps, differ from you on some points. But you have accustomed me to speak my mind candidly, because I know you attach more value to friendship than to complaisance ;-and we shall still be friends, in spite of little differences of opinion.

For some time I was induced to believe, that Miss Kelly was a mere creation of your fancy. I sought and enquired for her every where, without success: she was neither at Drury Lane nor Covent Garden. At length, some one who apparently recollected her by an effort of memory, informed me that she was a melo-dramatic actress, who had enjoyed a temporary degree of celebrity in the Maid and the Magpie, a translation of our Pie Voleuse. This, I was certain, could not be the Miss Kelly I was in quest of. I almost de

spaired of ever finding her, when one day I was looking over the works of Charles Lamb, a writer whose pleasing fancy and unaffected feeling I am sure you would admire. His essays on Shakspeare and Hogarth reflect the highest honour on his taste. He has also written some sonnets, which, like those of Mr. Bowles, are, in general, poetic developements of a moral sentiment or a touching idea. Among the number, there is one addressed to Miss Kelly, in which the poet pays an elegant tribute to her professional talents and private virtues. The identity was evident. But, thought I, can it be possible that Miss Kelly is appreciated by poets only? Would London, then, be insensible to the talent of Mademoiselle Mars, if we can imagine the possibility of Mademoiselle Mars being anything but a Frenchwoman? I was engaged in these reflections, which, as you will perceive, were calculated only to augment my curiosity, when I saw Miss Kelly's name in a playbill, announcing the benefit of an old performer of the same name, at the Opera House. Of course, I did not suffer this opportunity to escape, and I was not one of the last to work my way through the crowd, who were attracted by the desire of witnessing a performance in the Italian Opera House, for the ordinary prices of admission

to the other theatres.

Miss Kelly had a difficult task to sustain. She performed the part of Clara in M. Duval's lively opera, which has here been transformed into a

comic afterpiece, entitled Matrimony.* The mixture of coquetry and simplicity in the character of Clara, the light sarcastic tone of the dialogue, the capricious transition from ill humour to tenderness, all this, I conceive, can be gracefully managed only by a Frenchwoman; and, perhaps, of all our actresses, Mademoiselle Mars is the one who can sustain such a part most effectively. Miss Kelly certainly forms an accurate conception of the character; but she wants the elegance, the indescribable something, which belongs only to a Parisian female. I never before felt so perfectly sensible of the powerful effect produced by the magical voice of Mademoiselle Mars.

Since the opening of the summer theatres, Miss Kelly has been performing at the English Opera, so that I have had many opportunities of admiring the perfection and variety of her talent. Perhaps, now that I am more familiar with the manners of Englishwomen, I should be inclined to think more highly of Miss Kelly's performance of Clara, were I to see it again. The charm of Miss Kelly's acting consists in her unaffected manner, and her acute sensibility. With the liveliest imagination, she combines a high degree of exquisite tact, by the inspiration of which she is constantly guided.— Her acting is never artificial, and is perfectly free from all traces of study.

The simplicity of nature is Miss Kelly's ideal

• It is the Adolph and Clara of the German stage, with a few trifling alterations.