than this might be done with means sufficient; but it must not be forgotten that assurance of a very modest income would enable the work to be really begun. Once well begun and steadily worked at, all those developments which time and experience may find to be the best will surely follow. In conclusion, he disclaimed any idea of wishing to deal with the stage in a pedantic manner. He did not desire to see any artificial pampering or altering the conditions of the drama, but let the stage go on as it was then, for both the plays and the actors were improving.

A FRENCH ACTOR'S VIEW OF THE ENGLISH STAGE AND
ENGLISH ELOCUTION.

The subjoined letter, addressed by M. Got, the distinguished actor of the Comédie Française, to an English friend, will certainly be read with interest, as remarks on the English stage from such a quarter are entitled to great weight :

PARIS, Friday, August 8, 1879, 9.30 P.M. "You ask for my opinion of your stage. Is it not, however, delicate and awkward for an actor and a Frenchman, especially after the courteous and highly sympathetic reception which the Comédie Française, for the second time in ten years, has just received in London, to speak on such a subject to actors and lovers of the dramatic art in England? But no ; and I think I show my sense of this honour in replying with perfect frankness, the only thing becoming and useful between rivals who esteem and respect each other. Still, I scarcely read English fluently, and spoken English is too often beyond me. I shall not, therefore, commit the rashness or folly of attempting any judgment on your elocution and declamation per se. As to things of the eye and of action, it is different; they are within the range of all, more especially of me as a practitioner. Expect, therefore, from me the mature impression of a deaf and dumb man, as it were. Let homage, however, be first paid by the French comedians to the great nation to which you belong. We have still to bear the last vestiges of the prejudice which refused a tomb to Molière, whereas Garrick has rested for a century among the celebrities of your wonderful Westminster Abbey, at the very foot of the monument raised to Shakespeare. Well, strange to say, in your theatres, however fine the part allotted to the public, the part allotted to the actors seems to us wretched. You dress in black holes without ventilation on second floors below the stage. What? So honoured morally and so ill-used physically! Is there not a kind of contradiction here? But this is an affair between managers and actors; let us pass on and enter one of your theatres. On the rising of the curtain-a curtain almost always a dull green, threadbare affair-what strikes the French spectator in London is the aspect of decorations, generally more the worse for wear than at Paris. When equally well kept the effect is more glaring, especially with too much electric light, even in theatres where, as at the Lyceum, the Prince of Wales's, and also the Alhambra, attention is now paid to this part of the entertainment. of the costumes and the mise-en-scène.

The same thing may often be said
It is fair, however, to acknowledge

and to lay stress on this point-that during the last ten years your progress has been unquestionable and almost marvellous here, as elsewhere, in all the plastic and ornamental arts. There needs no other proof of this than the jealous but, at heart, noble feeling which, at the last Universal Exhibition in France, stirred our painters, our sculptors, above all, our watercolourists, and our industrial artists, on seeing the British section. Well, the feeling of the Parisian actors at your theatrical execution was of the same kind; first a species of surprise-we were not prepared for it, it is true, Frenchmen as we are-and then sincere homage. For my part, I had seen on visits some of your great actors-Phelps, for example, and Charles Mathews, both now dead; and I had admired the vigour of the former and the rare and original grace of the latter, from whom a Mercadet whom I know well had been happy to borrow considerably in his Game of Speculation. I had also seen Mr. Toole, whose witty and brilliant verve I did not this time witness, Mr. Irving, and Miss Geneviève Ward—an actress, French also, if she likes, some day. I again saw Mr. Irving, so remarkable in the Bells, in Charles I., and in Hamlet, while a new and charming Ophelia appeared before one in the form of Miss Ellen Terry, already an acquisition and a promise for the future. I saw the celebrated Mrs. Kendal, a fine actress, at the Court Theatre, and Mr. William Herbert. At the Prince of Wales's I saw, with Mr. Bancroft, Miss Marie Wilton, so deservedly popular; at the Adelphi, Mr. Neville and Mr. Hermann Vezin, and the handsome Miss Neilson; at the Princess's, Mr. Warner in Drink; and beside him, in a difficult and ungrateful part, a young man, whose cleverness and precision much struck me-Mr. William Redmund. I saw Miss Moodie and Mrs. John Wood in the Crisis at the Haymarket; and the Vaudeville company in the last of Mr. Byron's great successes that is to say, the last but one, for he is ever replacing one by another. How many others, doubtless, whom I either could not see, or now blame myself for having neglected to take their names, but whose clear and graceful acting remains in my memory! One, for instance, at the Opéra Comique-Mr. Rutland Barrington, if I am not mistaken, so humorous in the amusing and thoroughly English comic opera of Pinafore. Such was honestly the effect produced on me by the, alas! too superficial study to which I devoted myself, with equal curiosity and pleasure, during my few hours' leisure in the various trips I have made to London. What would it be if I could have fully judged of the dialogues of the pieces and the delivery of the actors? But did not the applause or laughter of the crowd, after all, guide me; and do we not know by experience, my distinguished colleagues of the Comédie Française and myself, how subtle and discriminating is the judgment of the London public, especially of the ladies, whose perception amazed us from the first by its delicacy; and of that other grande dame, the Press, whose art critics are recognised behind their incognito by the acuteness and polish of their style and ideas, even those whose pen is sometimes armed with a just point of irony. These lead me back straight to my subject, for if I wish to speak the truth, which is praise, I wish also to be critical, which is truth. Now, if in the French school one may blame, perhaps with reason, the school itself, and consequently the conventionality rather too common to all, and of a uniform

level, we have at least an unquestionable ensemble, whereas the English manner, inspired by the individuality and 'self' of each, necessarily conduces less to this ensemble, and sometimes leaves isolated those of the actors whom their individuality brings from the first into prominence. Another reproach: we are told that we sing; and this is often true, I think; but French art springs almost exclusively from the ancients, using rhythm even in prose, and measured and universal movement even in passion; whereas the originality of English art lies in the genial force of the idea; whether dramatic or burlesque, it is almost always somewhat rude and rough. This art should, therefore, be homogeneous in its expression. But, let me assure you, you also frequently sing your words more than you suspect; and I may add that you are right when it is the author who wishes it—the author, who is the master of all of us. Now, what poet, what lyrical orator, but wishes to be sung, seeing that he begins by singing himself? Listen to him. Several times at Westminster I was present at the pleading of your great barristers. One evening, a fine opportunity for which I am still grateful to the Savage Club-enabled me to hear close by and clearly understand the pure, eloquent, and harmonious voice of the illustrious Mr. Gladstone. What power, what charm! And what would your actors lose by pronouncing and modulating thus ? But I said in the beginning of this letter that I would treat only of what

struck my own eyes. I sum up, therefore, by declaring that the level of

theatrical execution in England seems to me considerably rising. I have seen the German stage at Vienna and Weimar and Munich carefully nursed, especially at Vienna; it is not superior to yours on this head. If, after rendering justice to the actors, I now ventured to go further, and hazarded some judgments on the moral side and the tendencies of your stage, I should then, without doubt, be more exclusive in our own favour. For, if each country providentially bears certain special fruits, has not art in general, and dramatic art in particular, been, and is it not still, rather, the vine, as it were, the peculiarity of France? It is true that Shakespeare, sweeping suddenly with the great wings of genius above the mysteries and platitudes of the Middle Ages, preceded by several years our grand outburst of the seventeenth century; but it is none the less true that the stage is still a national product, lovingly appreciated and cultivated, in my own country. You have authors certainly, and brilliant ones; but are not, after all, our authors, translated or adapted, the chief springs of your dramatic life? Do not refuse us this piece of pride, for you have a right to so many others. In a word, we are the Greeks, in my opinion, and you are the Romans, Menander does not prevent Plautus, Roscius does not exclude Aristodemus. It is with this I would conclude. Farewell, my dear friend. Give my best remembrances to those members of the Garrick Club who, thanks to you, honoured me with such gracious hospitality.

"EDMOND GOT. Doyen of the Comédie Française."

NOTE TO LECTURE VI.

A most useful and interesting little work by Herr Emil Behnke, Lecturer on Vocal Physiology at the Tonic Sol-fa College, has, since the present edition of these Lectures has been in type, been published by Messrs. J. Curwen & Sons, of 8 Warwick Lane, E.C. (price 3s.), under the title of "The Mechanism of the Human Voice." It is full of sound, practical common-sense, based upon true, physiological principles; and in discussing what is the right mode of carrying on respiration, the author says (p. 21): "With regard to the question whether inspiration should take place through the mouth or through the nostrils, I must enter my most decided protest against making it a practice to inhale through the mouth. There are, of course, occasions when this is unavoidable, as, for instance, where the singer has rapidly to take what is called a half-breath.' But complete inflation or 'full-breath' is not the work of a moment; it takes time, and must be done gradually, steadily, and without the slightest interruption. This should ALWAYS be done through the nostrils. The mouth was never intended for breathing, while the nose is specially and admirably adapted for this purpose. Not only can the lungs be well and quickly filled through this channel, but it is so cunningly devised, that it acts at the same time as a 'respirator,' both purifying and warming the air before it reaches the more delicate parts of the vocal organ. On the other hand, when inhaled through the mouth, the air carries with it sometimes right into the voice-box (i.e., the Larynx) dust and other impurities, and its temperature is not materially altered. The consequence is, that the throat and voice-box, when heated by singing or talking, or by hot rooms, are often exposed to cold, raw, and foggy winter air, and serious derangements of the respiratory organs are the natural consequence. If, moreover, this pernicious habit of breathing be once contracted, we shall soon also sleep with open mouths, thus parching our throats, and sowing the seeds of many a serious disorder."

Again in that excellent collection of Papers by various writers, edited by Mr. James Hinton, under the title of "Physiology for Practical Use," and published by Messrs. Henry S. King & Co., 12 Paternoster Row, London, it is stated in the Paper on "The Sense of Smell," at p. 103: "Even if we did not smell at all, we must still have a nose to breathe through. For it may not be amiss to remark-being upon noses-that the habit of breathing through the mouth instead, is a very bad one, and one that should never be tolerated especially in children. Not that it should be combated by command or argument alone, though these also are needful, still less by punishment. It never exists unless there is an impediment to the natural way of breathing, in the form generally of swelling of the lining membrane of the nose, and that impediment should of course be cured. We ought to breathe not through our mouths, but

through our noses, not only because it is by this means alone we can duly receive and enjoy the odours (when enjoyable) which accompany every breath, or take warning by them, if the contrary, but because the nose is itself a natural respirator. It contains a special provision for warming and moistening the air inspired."

Two VOICES AND A DOUBLE EPIGLOTTIS.-Dr. Thomas R. French relates, in the Annals of the Anatomical and Surgical Society of New York, a very remarkable case of this kind. It is that of a man, thirty years old, by occupation a singer and contortionist at variety shows. He came complaining of a weakness of the voice; that he could not always grasp the note at the beginning of a piece or turn of a song. He can command with ease the chest and the falsetto registers, and in singing has a baritone and a falsetto voice. Neither gives him the least discomfort, and in ordinary conversation he has no preference as to which to use. In his family he uses the high voice entirely, but in business prefers the low voice. He uses either according to habit or association, and asserts that many of his friends are not aware that he has two voices. He gained the extra voice when he was sixteen years old. In singing he always uses the high voice, as with it he can command a greater compass.-British Medical Journal, August 1880.

Another very interesting work on the voice, by Mr. Charles Lunn, has just been published (September 1880), entitled "Vox Populi." It forms a sequel to "The Philosophy of Voice" (W. Reeves, 185 Fleet Street, price Is. 6d.), and will well repay perusal.