Mlle Georges the younger, having succeeded in Iphigenie, appeared in the part of Zaire, a bold attempt, and tho’ she did it well and with much grace, yet it was evidently too arduous a task for her.  The whole onus of this affecting piece rests on the role of Zaire.  In the part where naivete was required she succeeded perfectly and her burst:  “Mais Orosmane m’aime et j’ai tout oublie” was most happy; but she was too faint and betrayed too little emotion in portraying the struggle between her love for Orosmane and the unsubdued symptoms of attachment to her father and brother and to the religion of her ancestors.  In short, where much passion and pathos was required, there she proved unequal to the task; but she has evidently all the qualities and dispositions towards becoming a good actress, and with more study and practise I have no doubt that three or four years hence, she will be fully equal to the difficult task of giving effect to and portraying to life, the exquisitely touching and highly interesting role of Zaire.  She was not called for to appear on the stage after the termination of the performance, tho’ frequently applauded during it.  The actor who did the part of Orosmane, in that scene wherein he discovers he has killed Zaire unjustly, gave a groan which had an unhappy effect; it was such an awkward one, that it made all the audience laugh; no people catch ridicule so soon as the French.

What I principally admire on the French stage is that the actors are always perfect in their parts and all the characters are well sustained; the performance never flags for a moment; and I have experienced infinitely more pleasure in beholding the dramas of Racine and Voltaire than those of Shakespeare, and for this reason that, on our stage, for one good actor you have the many who are exceedingly bad and who do not comprehend their author:  you feel consequently a hiatus valde deflendus when the principal actor or actress are not on the stage.  I have been delighted to see Kemble, and Mrs Siddons and Miss O’Neil, and while they were on the stage I was all eyes and ears; but the other actors were always so inferior that the contrast was too obvious and it only served to make more conspicuous the flagging of interest that pervades the tragedies of Shakespeare, Macbeth alone perhaps excepted.  I speak only of Shakespeare’s faults as a dramaturgus and they are rather the faults of his age than his own; for in everything else I think him the greatest litterary genius that the world ever produced, and I place him far above any poet, ancient or modern; yet in allowing all this, I do not at all wonder that his dramatic pieces do not in general please foreigners and that they are disgusted with the low buffoonery, interruption of interest and want of arrangement that ought of necessity to constitute a drama; for I feel the same objections myself when reading Shakespeare, and often lose patience; but then when I come to some sublime passage, I become