among a forest of old elm and ash trees which border the road from the Alhambra to Grenada. By the side of the green slope there are little rivulets which come from the Sierra Nevada, and run babbling along under the high trees. In the forest there are hawthorn and beautiful flowering plants, white cherry trees, rose trees from Judæa, large blue periwinkles-all sparkling in a silver haze under the oblique rays of the rising sun.

Following the mossy slope of verdure and flowers, we arrive at the Alhambra, and the marvel recommences. Shade, delicious freshness and beautiful light, murmuring water, and orange trees seen through the lace like arches of the Moorish archi tecture;-delicate pillars in pairs in the court of the Lions, supporting arcades with design in relief always varied and always harmonious; the vault of the dome broken by stalactites in colors, blue, red, or golden; beautiful shading from the black azulejos, gray, verde antique, turquoise blue, light-cream; splendid ceilings of cedar, where rose and light-maroon melt into silver and pearl. What a charm for eye and thought! And what a view from the top of the Lecador dela Reina !Grenada, with its group of red tiled roofs and little bells; Albaicin, honeycomed with excavations, and covered with cactus; cypress trees on the ter races of Generalife; orchards dotting the country here and there, and in the background the grand blue Sierras, gray, snow clad. And everywhere, roses, flowering orange trees, nightingales singing. We redescended, all aflame with enthusiasm and completely dazzled, to the hotel "Siete Suelos." There awaited us a scene of another

kind.

Under the plane trees which shade the façade there was a group of "Gitanos" of both sexes; around them were playing some children with curly wigs, and showing their bronze skin through the holes of their raveled rags. "The Scotchman" and "Old Brass" seated on the bench of the hotel, watched the capers of the gamins, and the expressive pantomime of the men and women, with an amused eye. In the thickest of the group with a stupefied air, and with hand stretched out, "Old Sleepy" was having his fortune told. The young fortune teller was a pretty girl of seventeen years, lightly dressed in a printed calico with white ground, and a fichu of Manilla hardly covering her naked shoulders and arms. This toilet, so little complicated, allowed one to admire the elegant form of her virgin figure: the plumpness of the bust and hips, the suppleness of the waist, the pure model of arm and neck. On this brown neck rested, like a flower on its stem, the fine, unique, beautiful head of Marecita: the wavy black hair falling in braids loosely on her shoulders, the rosy brown cheeks, the red lips, with mouth open showing beautiful white teeth, the great brown eyes with an expression at once modest and cunning, formed an ensemble most attractive. Bending lightly towards the Englishman's hand, in which she drew the lines of a crosswith a peseta," la Marecita told gaily her predictions, of which the gentleman did not understand a word, but which made the whole band of Gitanos laugh to kill themselves. Very grave, with his owly eyes wide open, he looked with a scared admiration at the sweet laugh and bright

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eyes of the young girl; with complaisant sensuality he allowed himself to be tapped on the hand by this little Bohemienne, and worked up little by little like a June bug that one scratches on the back. From time to time he trembled as though he had received an electric shock, and a pale light of desire brightened his astonished eyes.

"Muchas mujerer se enamoraran de su merced y seran la causa de su perdicion."

"She said," translated the hotel guide, "that the gentleman will be adored by the women, and that the women will be the cause of his perdition."

"Oh! indeed!" exclaimed "Old Sleepy" with a laugh full of ingenuous silliness, "thank you very much." The breakfast bell put this scene to an end, and while "Old Sleepy" trotted along on his way toward the dining-room, we made a bargain with

introduced us into a damp passage-way bordering a stair-way, which took us into an under-ground vault, very large, and lighted by smoking lamps.

The ball room had nothing luxurious about it. Through the blue cigarette smoke we could distinguish the light petticoats of the dancers, seated by the side of two guitarists at the end of the room. And at the other extremity, under the mantel of a vast chimney, where the trunks of some olive trees were burning, two old Bohemiennes were squatting in the cinders.

Hardly had we taken our places on the benches when some one knocked again at the entrance door. The robust bandit with the curly hair ran toward the stairway, and reappeared a few minutes after with some new spectators following him, among whom we recognized "The Scotchman,"

the old Gitan who seemed to be chief of the band, to be allowed to attend a flamenca dance (Gitana). The same evening, the old fellow came to take us, and walking before us with a lantern in his hand, under the thick foliage of the forest, conducted us to a cross-road, where stood an isolated building with walls pierced with rare and obscure little windows. Our guide knocked in a certain way on the closed door, and parleyed in whispers over the wicket-gate with one of the host who came from within.

The conclusion of this dialogue was that we must put up our cash before we would be admitted And the old fellow told us that they exacted from each one of us the payment of a duro (one dollar). After we had been thus executed they opened the door, and a big devil with curly hair

"Old Brass," and "Sleepy," trotting along under the escort of a frightful little Jew from Gibraltar, who acted as courier at the Hotel Siete Suelos.

As soon as they were seated the guitars commenced to sound, the castanets to claque, and the dance commenced.

There were but four dancers; three of them were robust girls with common features, thick lips, and very projecting hips under the light stuff of their flowery petticoats. The brazen expression of their faces and their lascivious contortions, exaggerated still more the very sensual mimicry of the flamenca dance; but when the fourth, who was none other than Marecita, stood up to dance, we were breathless with admiration, and I saw the eyes of "Sleepy" light up in the darkness like two glow-worms.

The toilet of Marecita was more carefully selected than that of her companion. Her short, rosetinted petticoat discovered her pretty little feet, and fitted tightly over the fine lines of her hips. She wore no corset, and her pretty, youthful bust bended and curved with the suppleness of a snake. Her neck, quite uncovered, had the modulation of bewitching grace; her head was covered with redand white giroflèes, between which could be distinguished the black color of her braided hair, and an accroche cœur beneath each temple.

In the animation of the dance, her cheeks became rosy through the sunburned brown, her brown eyes with long lashes, sparkled like diamonds, and, smiling a little disdainfully, she showed two white rows of pretty little moist teeth. In all her action she retained a modest air, which gave to her voluptuous dance a delicate reserve.

The castanets were claquing, the guitars were ron-roning, and the other girls were clapping their hands in cadence and exciting the dancer by harsh exclamations, while the grand old boy with curly hair sang in a guttural and vibrating voice.

I looked at "Sleepy;" he had changed completely. He turned pale and then red, held his breath, and his eyes followed as if fascinated, the slightest movement of the dancer. When Marecita, palpitating, stopped brusquely, and holding her little apron came to each one of us and with a courtesie asked an offering, I saw distinctly the Englishman with the brushy mustache, "Sleepy," slide a piece of gold in her hand; and I was not the only one who perceived this munificence, for the big devil with curly hair, who surveyed the gentleman

from the corner of his eye, leered at the scintillating piece of gold, making a grimace half-smiling, half-angrily, which showed his thirty-two pointed teeth.

This collection terminated the soirée, and under the guidance of the Gitano with the face of a bandit, we mounted again the stairway. At the moment when I left the room, it seemed to me that "Sleepy" as well as the Jew from Gibralta, remained behind purposely; and redescending quickly a few steps, I surprised them talking with one of the old women squatted under the chimney.-To be concluded.

THE WEEK.

LAST week the Boston correspondent of THE THEATRE reviewed the performance of Dellinger's opera of "Lorraine "by the McCaull company, and it was also noticed at the time of its production in Chicago, so there is no necessity of any extended remark concerning its presentation here at the Star Theatre. The music suggests reminiscences of "Don Cæsar." The Black Hussar," and every other light opera that has been seen in New York. There is a great deal of solo singing in it that is not particularly well sustained, and there are very few good choruses. The libretto is not especially edifying, but it is well acted chiefly by De Wolf Hopper, who puts into it an astonish

ingly large amount of vitality, Miss Soldene, and Messrs. Perugini and Morsell. Miss Griswold, who made her first appearance here, is very refined, but her voice and acting are altogether too amateurish for such a company. The opera is placed upon the stage with Mr. McCaull's usual care, and the orchestra does some splendid work under Mr. Unendorf's direction.

In the revival of “The Skating Rink" at the Bijou Theatre, Mr. Goodwin is seen at his best in this sort of thing, and the entertainment is crowded with enough fun and merriment to satisfy the most dyspeptic individual. Mr. Goodwin's burlesque on Camille is worth going a long way to see. The company is exceedingly good, and the piece might run with a continually large business the rest of the

season.

Mr. Harrigan has found "McNooney's Visit" decidedly cheerful. One of THE THEATRE'S artists gives this week some sketches made at random through the play which will be looked at with interest.

Miss Dauvray withdraws "Masks and Faces" and this Monday night brings forward a new play called "Walda Lamar," in which young Salvini will have a leading part.

"Prince Karl" is doing well at the Union Square. "Harbor Lights" is doing an excellent business at Wallack's. Seats must be gotten well in advance for " Jim, the Penman," and Erminie" is growing old at the Casino.

GUIDED by the baton of Mr. Theodore Thomas (wielded with his wonted adroitness), his orchestra glided smoothly through the score of Wagner's "Flying Dutchman" last Monday night. It was the opening of the National Opera Company's season at the Metropolitan Opera House.

Miss Emma Juch's sweetness in the rôle of Senta won the hearts of the audience. Her voice in the duet with The Dutchman in the second act rose to the powerful, though she is at her best in the ballad, where the quality of her voice was superb. Besides, Miss Juch has natural attractions in perfect harmony with the part.

The "Flying Dutchman" is eminently picturesque, and Mr. William Ludwig showed no little talent in his rendering of The Dutchman in its most picturesque phase. He invested

the phantom rôle with a sombre quaintness. He seemed to allow the music and the words to carry him on, as in turns they required him to be sad or dramatic, or even majestic-he was so. The stern, or rather faithful, realism of Mr. Whitney's Daland, by the help of contrast, brought out the depth of Mr. Ludwig's Dutchman all the more. The former was a robust Norseman. His voice is rich and mellow, capable of expressing a large variety of emotions, in every way human. He was quite as efficient an actor as Mr. Ludwig, and the duet between the two in the first act was spiritedly rendered, so that they were called before the curtain twice at the close of the act. It is not to be omitted that Mr. Whitney's enunciation was clean and distinct to a most praiseworthy degree. The "Flying Dutchman" is one of Wagner's lyric operas. Intensely picturesque, but not intensely dramatic; the scenes, the action, the music, tell the story less than in his tempestuous "Die Walkure" or. Tristan and Isolde," and therefore the words are needful for the proper following of the piece. And especially when it is rendered in English, we have a right to demand distinct utterances from the singers. Few of them on Monday night could have been called to account on that score, but it is to Mr. Whitney that the most credit is due.

The rôle of Erik is not one of great importance. Mr. Bassett made his first appearance in the part without creating a very marked impression. His voice is pleasing, of a fine quality, but in no way powerful. His acting, though earnest, was conventional, and his dressing of the part very bad.

Miss Mathilde Phillips, as Mary, sang charmingly, and Mr. William H. Fessenden's Steersman was very satisfactory. Nor can less be said of the choruses, both male and female. Indeed, the whole cast was phenomenal. We do not mean to assert that either Miss Juch or Messrs. Ludwig or Whitney are particularly brilliant stars. We are not blind to their limitations. But we mean to say that under Mr. Thomas's direction there is a harmonious co-operation of orchestra and singers, and between the singers themselves, which is extraordinary. The opera is thus seen or heard in the ensemble. And the cast is, thus taken together, super-excellent.

The stage effects in "The Flying Dutchman" are compared to the other Wagner operas of the simplest character, it is therefore no great compliment to say that they were in keeping with the other praiseworthy features of the representation.

Altogether, the National Opera Company is to be congratulated upon their success in presenting opera in English.

CLOSE OF GERMAN OPERA.

WITH a brilliant performance of "Die Meistersinger" on Friday evening, February 25, and "Rienzi" at the matinee the following afternoon, the third season of German Opera at the Metropolitan Opera House came to an end. The event on Friday evening was signalized by the presence of an audience that filled every part of this enormous house, and by its applause testified in no uncertain way the gratification felt in the achievements of all concerned in the series of remarkable performances given by this company during the past season. Additional interest was felt in this performance from the fact that it was the last to be conducted by the popular and highly efficient leader, Herr Anton Seidl. On this occasion he was presented with a beautiful silver loving cup and a handsomely bound copy of the score of Tristan and Isolde," by a number of friends won during his sojourn in this country. The cup was an especially noteworthy work of art, and its makers, the widely known and justly celebrated Gorham Mfg. Co. of this city have the best of reasons to feel proud of their achievement. It was made of solid silver in repousse. The sides were divided into three panels, illustrating in turn, scenes from Die Meistersinger," "Siegfried" and "Tristan and Isolde," all Wagnerian operas, for the successful performance of which he had mainly been responsible.

ANOTHER OPINION ABOUT "THEODORA."

CHICAGO, March 3.-All good acting, all acting that forces itself upon one's intelligence or upon one's sensibility, must carry upon the face of it an apparent absorption of the individual, a concentration and complete identification of the person acting, with the character acted. Stage art in its perfection arrives at a perfect semblance of this, without, perhaps, necessarily compelling the performer to suffer the nervous strain that occurs in its earlier,

unformed, experimental state. No great genius ever existed without this; in fact, all genius, as we perceive it, is but at bottom exemplary of this idea. Genius is mainly a matter of energy," is the definition given by one of the great contemporary essayists, and modern analytic criticism seems to afford a consensus of opinion to prove this. Contrast two types of the different schools, Kemble and Kean-one always self-conscious, dignified, formal, rarely, if ever, overstepping the accepted limit of art; the other, erratic, intense, often transcending all previously known bounds; of him it was that Hazlitt wrote, that it was like reading Shakespeare by flashes of lightningsudden, startling, terrifying. Genius deals with

the absolute; every energy, every faculty is used to the extreme, no half-hearted parleyings, but full, clear, flashing, unstrained soulfulness.

Bernhardt is a genius. With all her meagreness of physical force, there lies coiled up within her a power of psychic, "vril," essence that makes her marvelous. One can easily imagine what a figure she would make, what a splendid reproduction she would give, of Sardou's creation, Theodora. Miss Lillian Olcott, who has been playing here in this last drama by the greatest living dramatist, has demonstrated very clearly that a creator may be easily lost and made seem only an ordinary mortal by contact with a soul unequal to bringing to his thought an equal or an approximate perception. Charity should not be strained, any more than mercy; but when presumption arrogates to itself ability to cope with things above it and beyond, we incline to assert that it is to be judged by its own standard-Miss Olcott has spoiled for some one else a fine opportunity. There are several actresses we might name who could make "Theodora ' acceptable: what a pity that circumstances did not throw this plum in their way. The stage settings, the costumes are expensive and adequate, but it all appears only a masquerade, only a poor puppet-show. The supporting company only helps to enforce the entire inadequacy of the presentation.

J. B. C.

MISS VOKES BECOMES ENTANGLED IN THE MESHES OF CULTURED CRITICISM.

BOSTON, March 1.-A very large and distinguished audience at the Park Theatre last night witnessed the first production in this city of A. W. Pinero's three-act farce, "The Schoolmistress." In the hands of Miss Rosina Vokes and her excellent company this piece, with its comic situations and sparkling text, received a thorough interpretation, one in which the merits of the players far exceeded those of the play itself. The latter, in lack of plot and systematic development, is nothing worse than many similar plays built on these lines. Its confusing story is lost without regret in the light of its abounding witicisms, felicitous phrasing, and romping cadence, these, with irresistible power, sustaining an interest that otherwise would sadly flag under the influence of commonplace incidents. Where mediocrity is redeemed by such honest and wholesome appeals to our love for fun and natural humor, the fastidious and censorious condemnation of such pieces is idle talk. For these

The Schoolmistress" well deserves the measure of success obtained already in London and New York, now to be increased in this city. In the character of Peggy, Miss Rosina Vokes found ample opportunity for the display of those qualifications which have endeared her to the public heart. While at moments the tendency to burlesque true comedy acting was distasteful, her avoidence of