it at the theater.  His version of its horrors was laughable in the extreme, especially when, coming to the episode of the resurrection of the nuns, he contrived to give the most comical effect of a whole crowd—­gibbering, glissading women greeting one another with the rapid music of the original scene, to which he adapted the words—­

“Quoi c’est moi c’est toi,
Oui c’est toi c’est moi;
Comme nous voila bien degommes.”

Mendelssohn’s opinion of the subjects chosen for operas in his day
(even such a story as that of the Sonnambula) was scornful in the
extreme.

Friday, 24th.—­ ...  Dined with the Fitzhughs, and after dinner proceeded to the Adelphi, where we went to see “Victorine,” which I liked very much.  Mrs. Yates acted admirably the whole of it, but more particularly that part where she is old and in distress and degradation.  There was a dreary look of uncomplaining misery about her, an appearance as of habitual want and sorrow and suffering, a heavy, slow, subdued, broken deportment, and a way of speaking that was excellent and was what struck me most in her performance, for the end is sure to be so effective that she shares half her merit there with the situation.  Reeve is funny beyond anything; his face is the most humorous mask I ever saw in my life.  I think him much more comical than Liston.  The carriage was not come at the end of the first piece, so we had to wait through part of “Robert the Devil” (given at last, such was its popularity, at every theater in London).  Of course, after our own grand diablerie, it did not strike me except as being wonderfully well done, considering the size and means of their little stage. [Yates made a most capital fiend:  I should not like a bit to be Mrs Yates after seeing him look that part so perfectly.]

                              GREAT RUSSELL STREET, February 24, 1832. 
     DEAREST H——­,

I have this moment received your letter, and though rather disappointed myself, I am glad you are to see Dorothy as well as we, so that your visit southward is to be two pleasures instead of one.  The representation of “Francis I.” is delayed until next Wednesday, 7th March; not on account of cholera, but of scenery and other like theatrical causes of postponement....

I am greatly worried and annoyed about my play.  The more I see and hear of it the stronger my perception grows of its defects, which, I think, are rendered even more glaring by the curtailments and alterations necessary for its representation; and the whole thing distresses me as much as such a thing can.  I send you the cast of the principal characters for the instruction of my Ardgillan friends, by whose interest about it I am much gratified.  My father is to be De Bourbon; John Mason, the king; Mr. Warde, the monk; Mr. Bennett, Laval.  These are the principal men’s parts.  I act the queen-mother;