The artificial declamation which was in vogue when he left the stage had, during his absence, passed all reasonable limits; it had become absurd by exaggeration, and Baron resolved to put an end to its existence. He became the founder of a school of which the principles are at this time held to be the most excellent in dramatic art. He obliged academical rules to give way to Nature, and said, "Les règles défendent d'élever les bras audessus de la tête, mais si la passion les y porte ils feront bien. La passion en sait plus que les règles." A courageous innovator, he not only flung his arms. fearlessly above his head when passion urged him, but he broke through the cadences of Racine when the pause of emotion did not fall in naturally with the cæsura of the line. "Il rompait la mesure des vers de telle sorte que l'on ne sentait point l'insupportable monotonie du vers Alexandrin," says Collé in his description of him. This extraordinary tragedian left the stage for the second and last time on the 3d of September, 1729. He was playing the part of Venceslas, and as he uttered the line "Si proche du cercueil où je me vois descendre," he suddenly swooned, and was carried off the scene by his comrades. He did not long survive this accident, but he found time before his death to make a solemn renunciation of this profession, which he did, no doubt, in order to conciliate the Church and to obtain a respectable burial; accordingly he was interred with all proper funeral ceremonies. His portrait hangs in the "Foyer des Artistes," not far from that of Le Kain. ADRIENNE LECOUVREUR. The most remarkable of the artists who occupied the stage when Baron returned to it, was Adrienne Lecouvreur, whose natural endowments were considerable, and whose intellect was of a high order. A true sensibility showed itself in all her representations, but it was checked by the pedantic conventionalities which belonged to that epoch of art. Baron, touched by her talent, redeemed it from this bondage. Adrienne, under this dominion, changed her style, and renounced the excessive restraint which interfered with the flow of poetry and passion. Among her most distinguished admirers was Voltaire; and in his tragedies, as in Racine's, her tender pathos and her dignity were equally felt. She was the chief ornament of the Comédie Française; and when she died, after three days' illness, at the age of forty, on the 20th of March, 1730, there was lamentation throughout Paris, for she was the favorite of society no less than the delight of the stage. The sudden extinction of a bright light always raises wonder and conjecture; and it was whispered in aristocratic circles that Adrienne was poisoned by a certain Countess who disputed with her the exclusive devotion of the Comte de Saxe, and who made use of a little Abbé, the slave of her caprices, to destroy her rival. The Abbé was commissioned to convey to the actress a box of choice "confitures," containing some subtle poison. The tragedy of Adrienne Lecouvreur, written by Messrs. Scribe and Legouvé, and made famous by Mlle. Rachel's impersonation of the principal character, is founded on this story, which had some vogue in its day, but which appears to have had no surer foundation than that of general rumor concerning itself with a surprising and painful event. The illness preceding death was so short that Mlle. Lecouvreur had no time to make those arrangements with the Church which were necessary to absolve her from the taint of her excommunicated profession; and thus it happened that Christian interment was denied to her, and that she was buried darkly at dead of night at the corner of the Rue de Bourgogne by two porters. A few months later, in London, died the great tragic actress, Mrs. Oldfield, and she was interred with stately ceremonies in Westminster Abbey. PERSECUTION OF THE PLAYERS. This insult to the memory of a cherished artist was galling to the heart of the Parisians; it roused Voltaire, who commented strongly upon the proceeding both in prose and verse, and it, no doubt, contributed, with many other ill-advised acts, to that feeling of animosity against the clergy which broke through all restraint in the Revolution of 1789. The persecutions with which the priests pursued the players were very trying. Louis XIV., during the last half of his reign, rarely appeared at theatrical representations, and did little for the players. The "droit des pauvres," which began, as before mentioned, as a substitute for payment to court, indulgent to polite vice, but shocked at a strong expression, had been a source of irritation to Molière, and the opinion of the aristocratic circle had the more sway because there was not at that time an established censorship to decide upon the difficult question of what is or is not proper for stage representation. It was not till the year 1702 that a dramatic censorship in France was officially founded, upon the remonstrance of the Duchess of Orleans against the improprieties of a piece called Le Bal d'Auteuil. In compliance with her request Louis XIV. ordered that no play should henceforth be performed without being first admitted to the inspection of a censor duly appointed to that office. It was then with a view to the interests of morality that the official examination of plays was instituted in the reign of Louis XIV. The censorship was not, as some English writers have supposed, an office created under the despotism of the first Napoleon, to serve merely for political purposes; though it is true that Bonaparte did work it hard for his own ends, and that those ends had no concern with the decencies of society. The Bourbon Restoration followed his example in this as in many other respects; and the use or abuse of the dramatic censorship at present in Paris is evidently dictated by political rather than moral considerations. the "Confrères de la Passion" for the lease of The accession of Louis XV. to the throne brought with it relief to the Comédie. The Duc de Richelieu took its interests in hand, and in 1758 its considerable debt was paid off, and its subsidy was doubled. The period of eighty years, during which the "Comédiens du Roi" played at the Rue des Fossés, was one of the most brilliant in the records of the Théâtre Français. Their dramatic repertory was enriched during that epoch by 576 new pieces, of which a few of the most distinguished authors only can here be named :-La Fontaine, Regnard, Le Sage, Crébillon, Voltaire, Marivaux, Marmontel, Diderot, Collé, Sedaine, Beaumarchais, Denon, Ducis. Among these names, the best known to English readers are Voltaire and Beaumarchais. Voltaire, as a writer of tragedy, has neither the vigorous grandeur of Corneille, nor the dignified pathos and fine construction of Racine; but his dramatic situations are skillful, his movement is animated, his passion often finds a fiery expression, and his intellect is always apparent, indeed too much so, for the intellectual in tragic poetry should MADAME FAVART. MADAME FAVART, whose maiden name was MarieJustine-Benoite Duronceray, was born at Avignon in 1727. She appeared first as a vocalist at the Opéra Comique, Paris, in 1744, under the name of Mlle de Chantilly. The following year she married the dramatist and originator of the vaudeville, Charles Simon Favart, who, by following soon after the camp of Marshal Saxe with a dramatic troupe, subjected himself and his wife to severe persecutions on account of her rejecting the marshal's addresses. After the marshal's death, in 1750, she resumed acting in Paris, chiefly in her husband's plays. She excelled equally as actress, singer, and dancer, and intro early age showed singular dispositions for the stage, which he gratified by joining a company of amateur actors got up among the Parisian bourgeoisie, who, relieved from the pressures and anxieties of war by the Peace of 1748, returned with alacrity to their favorite pastimes. The actors were as feeble as amateur actors usually are, and Le Kain's genuis with these surroundings was startling. The fame of it reached Voltaire, who sent for the young tragedian, and on hearing him recite, embraced him with enthusiasm, and thanked God for having created a being who could rouse such emotion. Yet he warned him against the theatrical profession. "Jouez la comédie," he said, "pour votre plaisir, mais n'en faites jamais votre état. C'est le plus beau, le plus rare, et le plus difficile des talents; mais il est avili par des barbares, et proscrit par des hypocrites." With the hope of restricting Le Kain to amateur performances, Voltaire made him his own guest for six months, and built for him a little theater, where he acted with a select society of the poet's friends. But this kind of entertainment proved expensive, and Le Kain's instincts urged him to seek a wider sphere. He made his debut at the Théâtre Français the 14th of September, 1750, as Titus, in the tragedy of "Brutus." His appearance was the signal for dissension between the aristocracy of the boxes and the literature of the pit. Le Kain was an ill-made, ugly man, with a harsh voice. His immediate predecessors, Baron and Dufresne, were remarkable for their noble presence and their harmonious tones. He appeared, then, before the public under disadvantage; yet the better judgments among his audience saw in his brilliant eyes the fire of genius, and found in his tragic scenes a depth of passion which concentrated in itself all the sorrows of humanity, all the force of man at war with fate. He was a disciple of the school of Baron-paused when he pleased, and used such gestures as his passion dictated. For a long time he acted against eager opposition on one side, and impetuous applause on the other. He was the object of much rancour and jealous fear among those who had already possession of the stage, and for sixteen months he was admitted only as a pensionnaire by the Société. Tired of this position, he obtained leave to play the part of Orosmane, in "Zaïre," before the King. In this performance he surpassed all his former efforts. As the tragedy proceeded, the actor seemed transfigured; eyes wet with tears no longer saw the illshaped features. His soul was in his face; women who had begun by spying him curiously, and whispering "qu'il est laid!" now, sobbing, said, "qu'il est beau!" At the conclusion, Louis XV. was requested to give his verdict. "Il m'a fait pleurer," said the King, "moi, qui ne pleure guère; je le reçois." In this singular manner Le Kain was elected a Sociétaire of the Comédie Française. The position which he had won with difficulty, he was resolved to hold with dignity. He set about correcting the faults which his opponents complained of, and spent long hours upon exercising the tones of his voice, till he forced an unknown sweetness out of them; and those who had before closed their He ears against him, listened with mute wonder. then turned his attention to the improvement of the theater, and determined to get rid of the benches on the stage, where the most indifferent and insolent spectators were wont to be seated. Baron had looked them down : Le Kain intended to turn them out. Their presence was inconvenient to the action of the piece; the actors were impeded by them, and so were the authors, who had to contrive situations which could be independent of the narrow space allowed. There were many difficulties in the way of this reform. First, there was the old custom; next, there was the expense the change would involve by entailing a necessity for alterations in the scenery. Mlle. Clairon, however, the great actress who shared the honors of tragedy with Le Kain at the Français, supported his views with her remarkable intellect; and at last, in 1759, the benches of the stage were removed for ever. The charges of this alteration were defrayed by the Comte de Lauraguais, and, naturally, the reform did not stop there. Le Kain and Clairon used their united influence to improve all the scenery and decorations of the theater, and to introduce changes of costume for changes of character.* The company was now persuaded to proceed so far with decoration and costume that the expenses of the house were doubled, but before long the receipts were trebled. Le Kain finally gained the appreciation of all Paris; and when after a short illness his death was announced in the Théâtre Français, in reply to a demand from the audience to know how he was going on, the words "il est mort" were repeated by the whole house with a burst of anguish. His loss was felt to be irreparable. This great tragedian, who did much good to his art, did also some harm; for it was he who first made long excursions from his theater, and starred it either at Ferney and in its neighborhood, or in some of the great towns of France. He made one visit to Prussia to act before Frederick II.; but that was only effected by diplomatic negotiation. Frederick, through his ambassador, begged this favor of the French sovereign. An expressive * Voltaire, upon the production of “Zaïre," had made some attempt in this direction, but it did not go far, and the records of the Comédie Française contain the following notes of expenditure for the first night of the tragedy, 13th August, 1732: portrait of Le Kain is one of the many treasures of the Théâtre Français. He died in the year 1778. MADEMOISELLE CLAIRON. The mental power of his co-operator, Mlle. Clairon, was very singular. She was the child of an ignorant and depraved mother. Who her father was she never knew, and in her younger days she was driven and beaten. Her mother's desire was to make her a seamstress; but she had no taste for sewing; her tired head used to droop, and the work fell out of her small unwilling hands. It was said that she ought to like it, and she was flogged to make her like it. Some neighbors interfered; they suggested that perhaps the little girl would do better if she were less beaten. Solitary confinement was then resorted to, and the child was shut up in a large dark garret, lighted only by small windows, to meditate on needlework and to resolve against it. This wretched room, where she was left for long hours to fast and weep, was the origin of her subsequent greatness. One day, tired of darkness, she mounted on a high chair and ventured to look out at window. The streets of Paris were very narrow BRESSANT. then, and you could see into a room across the way as into a box at a theater. The long windows of a vision of beauty delighted her eyes, which had hitherto seen nothing but ugliness. A pretty child, about her own age, was practicing dancing. The master stood by her side with a violin, and encouraged her with kindly smiles. The mother looked on with approbation in her face, and the girl's movements were full of grace. This lesson lasted an hour, during which time Clairon remained perched on her chair, breathless, gazing with ecstacy-as audiences remained in after years with eyes, ears, and minds enraptured by her. At the close of this delicious hour the violin ceased, the master bowed, the mother clasped the child in her arms and repeatedly kissed her. Clairon dropped from her chair and wept; she had never known a tender mother's kiss. This vision of beauty and of human love wrung her heart, and yet she longed to see it again. She was now glad of the daily punishment she was sure to have. She was no longer alone; she was gaining inspirations as from another world. And when the lesson finished, the little watcher followed it up by efforts of her own. She strove to imitate the actions she saw : she taught her small simple limbs to copy the attitudes she admired. She acquired an erect position, and seemed to add an |