COMEDY.

_Parts of noble Fathers._

VANHOVE and NAUDET.

VANHOVE. This actor is rather more sufferable in comedy than tragedy;

but in both he is very monotonous, and justifies the lines applied to

him by a modern satirist, M. DESPAZE:

"VANHOVE, _plus heureux, psalmodie à mon gré;

Quel succès l'attendait, s'il eût été Curé!_"

NAUDET. I have already said that the Reverend Father NAUDET, as he is

called, played the parts of tyrants in tragedy. Never did tyrant

appear so inoffensive. As well as VANHOVE, in comedy, he neither

meets with censure nor applause from the public.

_First parts, or principal lovers, in Comedy._

MOLÉ, FLEURY, and BAPTISTE the elder.

MOLÉ. At this name I breathe. Perhaps you have imagined that

ill-humour or caprice had till now guided my pen; but, could I praise

the talent of MOLÉ as he deserves, you would renounce that opinion.

MOLÉ made his _début_ at the _Comédie Française_ about forty-five

years ago. He had some success; but as the Parisian public did not

then become enthusiasts in favour of mere beginners, he was sent into

the provinces to acquire practice. At the expiration of two or three

years, he returned, and was received to play the parts of young

lovers in tragedy and comedy. He had not all the nobleness requisite

for the first-mentioned line of acting; but he had warmth and an

exquisite sensibility. In a word, he maintained his ground by the

side of Mademoiselle DUMESNIL and LEKAIN, two of the greatest

tragedians that ever adorned the French stage. For a long time he was

famous in the parts of _petits-maîtres_, in which he shone by his

vivacity, levity, and grace.

This actor was ambitious in his profession. Although applauded, and

perhaps more so than LEKAIN, he was perfectly sensible that he

produced not such great, such terrible effects; and he favoured the

introduction of the _drame_, which is a mixture of tragedy and

comedy. But those who most detest the whining style of this species

of composition are compelled to acknowledge that MOLÉ was fascinating

in the part of _St. Albin_, in DIDEROT'S _Père de Famille_.

BELLECOURT being dead, MOLÉ took the first parts in comedy, with the

exception of a few of those in which his predecessor excelled, whose

greatest merit, I understand, was an air noble and imposing in the

highest degree. As this was MOLÉ's greatest deficiency, he

endeavoured to make amends for it by some perfection. He had no

occasion to have recourse to art. It was sufficient for him to employ

well the gifts lavished on him by nature. Though now verging on

seventy, no one expresses love with more eloquence (for sounds too

have theirs), or with more charm and fire than MOLÉ. In the fourth

act of the _Misanthrope_, he ravishes and subdues the audience, when,

after having overwhelmed _Célimène_ with reproaches, he paints to her

the love with which he is inflamed. But this sentiment is not the

only one in the expression of which MOLÉ is pre-eminently successful.

In the _Philinte de Molière_, which also bears the title of _La Suite

du Misanthrope_, and in which FABRE D'EGLANTINE has presented the

contrast between an egotist and a man who sacrifices his interest to

that of his fellow-creatures, MOLÉ vents all the indignation of

virtue with a warmth, a truth, and even a nobleness which at this day

belong only to himself. In short, he performs this part, in which the

word _love_ is not once mentioned, with a perfection that he

maintains from the first line to the last.

In the fifth act of _Le Dissipateur_ (a comedy by DESTOUCHES), when

he sees himself forsaken by his companions of pleasure, and thinks he

is so by his mistress too, the expression of his grief is so natural,

that you imagine you see the tears trickling from his eyes. In

moments when he pictures love, his voice, which at times is somewhat

harsh, is softened, lowers its key, and (if I may so express myself)

goes in search of his heart, in order to draw from it greater

flexibility and feeling. The effect which he produces is irresistible

and universal. Throughout the house the most profound silence is

rigidly, but sympathetically enforced; so great is the apprehension

of losing a single monosyllable in these interesting moments, which

always appear too short. To this silence succeed shouts of

acclamation and bursts of applause. I never knew any performer

command the like but Mademoiselle SAINVAL the elder.

In no character which MOLÉ performs, does he ever fail to deserve

applause; but there is one, above all, which has infinitely added to

his reputation. It is that of the _Vieux Célibataire_ in the comedy

of the same name by COLIN D'HARLEVILLE, which he personates with a

good humoured frankness, an air of indolence and apathy, and at the

same time a grace that will drive to despair any one who shall

venture to take up this part after him. On seeing him in it, one can

scarcely believe that he is the same man who renders with such warmth

and feeling the part of _Alceste_ in the _Misanthrope_, and in the

_Suite de Molière_; but MOLÉ, imbibing his talent from nature, is

diversified like her.

Caressed by the women, associating with the most amiable persons both

of the court and the town, and, in short, idolized by the public,

till the revolution, no performer led a more agreeable life than

MOLÉ. However, he was not proscribed through it, and this was his

fault. Not having been imprisoned like the other actors of the old

_Comédie Française_, he had no share in their triumph on their

reappearance, and it even required all his talent to maintain his

ground; but, as it appears that no serious error could be laid to his

charge, and as every thing is forgotten in the progress of events, he

resumed part of his ascendency. I shall terminate this article or

panegyric, call it which you please, by observing that whenever MOLÉ

shall retire from the _Théâtre Français_, and his age precludes a

contrary hope, the best stock-pieces can no longer be acted.[1]

FLEURY. A man can no more be a comedian in spite of Thalia than a

poet in spite of Minerva. Of this FLEURY affords a proof. This actor

is indebted to the revolution for the reputation he now enjoys; but

what is singular, it is not for having shewn himself the friend of

that great political convulsion. Nature has done little for him. His

appearance is common; his countenance, stern; his voice, hoarse; and

his delivery, embarrassed; so much so that he speaks only by

splitting his syllables. A stammering lover! MOLÉ, it is true,

sometimes indulged in a sort of stammer, but it was suited to the

moment, and not when he had to express the ardour of love. A lover,

such as is represented to us in all French comedies, is a being

highly favoured by Nature, and FLEURY shews him only as much

neglected by her. A great deal of assurance and a habit of the stage,

a warmth which proceeds from the head only, and a sort of art to

disguise his defects, with him supply the place of talent. Although

naturally very heavy, he strives to appear light and airy in the

parts of _petits-maîtres_, and his great means of success consist in

turning round on his heel. He was calculated for playing _grims_

(which I shall soon explain), and he proves this truth in the little

comedy of _Les Deux Pages_, taken from the life of the king of

Prussia, the great Frederic, of whose caricature he is the living

model. He wished to play capital parts, the parts of MOLÉ, and he

completely failed. He ventured to appear in the _Inconstant_, in

which MOLÉ is captivating, and it was only to his disgrace. Being

compelled to relinquish this absurd pretension, he now confines

himself to new or secondary parts, in the former of which he has to

dread no humiliating comparison, and the latter are not worthy to be

mentioned.

Friends within and without the theatre, and the spirit of party,

have, however, brought FLEURY into fashion. He will, doubtless,

preserve his vogue; for, in Paris, when a man has once got a name, he

may dispense with talent:

"_Des réputations; on ne sait pourquoi!"

says GRESSET, the poet, in his comedy of _Le Méchant_, speaking of

those which are acquired in the capital of France.

BAPTISTE the elder. But for the revolution, he too would, in all

probability, never have figured on the _Théâtre Français_. When all

privileges were abolished, a theatre was opened in the _Rue Culture

St. Catherine_ in Paris, and BAPTISTE was sent for from Rouen to

perform the first parts. In _Robert Chef des Brigands_ and _La Mère

Coupable_, two _drames_, the one almost as full of improbabilities as

the other, he had great success; but in _Le Glorieux_ he acquired a

reputation almost as gigantic as his stature, and as brilliant as his

coat covered with spangles. This was the part in which BELLECOURT

excelled, and which had been respected even by MOLÉ. The latter at

length appeared in it; but irony, which is the basis of this

character, was not his talent: yet MOLÉ having seen the court, and

knowing in what manner noblemen conducted themselves, BAPTISTE had an

opportunity of correcting himself by him in the part of _Le

Glorieux_.

The _Théâtre Français_ being in want of a performer for such

characters, BAPTISTE was called in. Figure to yourself the person of

Don Quixote, and you will have an idea of that of this actor, whose

countenance, however, is unmeaning, and whose voice seems to issue

from the mouth of a speaking-trumpet.

Jeunes premiers, _or young lovers, in Comedy_.

ST. FAL, DUPONT, DAMAS, and ARMAND.

One might assemble what is best in these four actors, without making

one perfect _lover_. I have already spoken of the first three, who,

in comedy, have nearly the same defects as in tragedy. As for the

fourth, he is young; but unfortunately for him, he has no other

recommendation.

_Characters of_ Grims, _or_ Rôles à manteau.[2]

GRANDMÉNIL and CAUMONT.

GRANDMÉNIL. This performer is, perhaps, the only one who has

preserved what the French critics call _la tradition_, that is, a

traditionary knowledge of the old school, or of the style in which

players formerly acted, and especially in the time of MOLIÈRE. This

would be an advantage for him, but for a defect which it is not in

his power to remedy; for what avails justness of diction when a

speaker can no longer make himself heard? And this is the case with

GRANDMÉNIL. However, I would advise you to see him in the character

of the _Avare_ (in MOLIÈRE'S comedy of that name) which suits him

perfectly. By placing yourself near the stage, you might lose nothing

of the truth and variety of his delivery, as well as of the play of

his countenance, which is facilitated by his excessive meagreness,

and to which his sharp black eyes give much vivacity.

GRANDMÉNIL is member of the National Institute.

CAUMONT. He possesses that in which his principal in this cast of

parts is deficient, and little more. One continually sees the efforts

he makes to be comic, which sufficiently announces that he is not

naturally so. However, he has a sort of art, which consists in

straining his acting a little without overcharging it.

_Parts of Valets_.

DUGAZON, DAZINCOURT, and LAROCHELLE.

DUGAZON. One may say much good and much ill of this actor, and yet be

perfectly correct. He has no small share of warmth and comic humour.

He plays sometimes as if by inspiration; but more frequently too he

charges his parts immoderately. PRÉVILLE, who is no common authority,

said of DUGAZON: "How well he can play, if he is in the humour!" He

is but seldom in the humour, and when he is requested not to

overcharge his parts, 'tis then that he charges them most. Not that

he is a spoiled child of the public; for they even treat him

sometimes with severity. True it is that he is reproached for his

conduct during the storms of the revolution. Although advanced in

years, he became Aide-de-camp to SANTERRE.----SANTERRE! An execrable

name, and almost generally execrated! Is then a mixture of horror and

ridicule one of the characteristics of the revolution? And must a

painful remembrance come to interrupt a recital which ought to recall

cheerful ideas only? In his quality of Aide-de-camp to the Commandant

of the national guard of Paris, DUGAZON was directed to superintend

the interment of the unfortunate Lewis XVI, and in order to consume

in an instant the body of that prince, whose pensioner he had been,

he caused it to be placed in a bed of quick lime. No doubt, DUGAZON

did no more than execute the orders he received; but he was to blame

in putting himself in a situation to receive them.

Not to return too abruptly to the tone which suits an article wherein

I am speaking of actors playing comic parts, I shall relate a

circumstance which had well nigh become tragic, in regard to DUGAZON,

and which paints the temper of the time when it took place. Being an

author as well as an actor, DUGAZON had written a little comedy,

entitled _Le Modéré_. It was his intention to depress the quality

indicated by the title. However, he was thought to have treated his

subject ill, and, after all, to have made his _modéré_ an honest man.

In consequence of this opinion, at the very moment when he was coming

off the stage, after having personated that character in his piece,

he was apprehended and taken to prison.

DAZINCOURT. In no respect can the same reproaches be addressed to him

as to DUGAZON; but as to what concerns the art, it may be said that

if DUGAZON goes beyond the mark, DAZINCOURT falls short of it.

PRÉVILLE said of the latter as a comedian: "Leaving pleasantry out of

the question, DAZINCOURT is well enough." Nothing can be added to the

opinion of that great master.

LAROCHELLE. He has warmth, truth, and much comic humour; but is

sometimes a little inclined to charge his parts. He has a good stage

face. It appears that he can only perform parts not overlong, as his

voice easily becomes hoarse. This is a misfortune both for himself

and the public; for he really might make a good comedian.

There are a few secondary actors in the comic line, such as BAPTISTE

the younger, who performs in much too silly a manner his parts of

simpletons, and one DUBLIN, who is the ostensible courier; not to

speak of some others, whose parts are of little importance.

_January 22, in continuation,_

_Principal female Characters, in Comedy._

Mesdemoiselles CONTAT, and MÉZERAY.--Madame TALMA.

Mademoiselle CONTAT. This actress has really brought about a

revolution in the theatre. Before her time, the essential requisites

for the parts which she performs, were sensibility, decorum,

nobleness, and dignity, even in diction, as well as in gestures, and

deportment. Those qualities are not incompatible with the grace, the

elegance of manners, and the playfulness also required by those

characters, the principal object of which is to interest and please,

which ought only to touch lightly on comic humour, and not be

assimilated to that of chambermaids, as is done by Mademoiselle

CONTAT. A great coquette, for instance, like _Célimène_ in the

_Misanthrope_, ought not to be represented as a girl of the town, nor

_Madame de Clainville_, in the pretty little comedy of _La Gageure_,

as a shopkeeper's wife.

The innovation made by Mademoiselle CONTAT was not passed over

without remonstrance. Those strict judges, those conservators of

rules, those arbiters of taste, in short, who had been long in the

habit of frequenting the theatre, protested loudly against this new

manner of playing the principal characters. "That is not becoming!"

exclaimed they incessantly: which signified "that is not the truth!"

But what could the feeble remonstrances of the old against the warm

applause of the young?

Mademoiselle CONTAT had a charming person, of which you may still be

convinced. She was not then, as she is now, overloaded with

_embonpoint_, and, though rather inclined to stoop, could avail

herself of the advantages of an elevated stature. None of the

resources of the toilet were neglected by her, and for a long time

the most elegant women in Paris took the _ton_ for dress from

Mademoiselle CONTAT. Besides, she always had a delicacy of

discrimination in her delivery, and a varied sprightliness in the

_minutiæ_ of her acting. Her voice, though sometimes rather shrill,

is not deficient in agreeableness, but is easily modulated, except

when it is necessary for her to express feeling. The inferiority of

Mademoiselle CONTAT on this head is particularly remarkable when she

plays with MOLÉ. In a very indifferent comedy, called _Le Jaloux sans

amour_, at the conclusion of which the husband entreats his wife to

pardon his faults, MOLÉ contrives to find accents so tender, so

affecting; he envelops his voice, as it were, with sounds so soft, so

mellow, and at the same time so delicate, that the audience, fearing

to lose the most trifling intonation, dare not draw their breath.

Mademoiselle CONTAT replies, and, although she has to express the

same degree of feeling, the charm is broken.

Being aware that the want of nobleness and sensibility was a great

obstacle to her success, this actress endeavoured to insure it by

performing characters which require not those two qualities. The

first she selected for her purpose was _Susanne_ in the _Mariage de

Figaro_. _Susanne_ is an elegant and artful chambermaid; and

Mademoiselle CONTAT possessed every requisite for representing well

the part. She had resigned the principal character in the piece to

Mademoiselle SAINVAL the younger, an actress who was celebrated in

tragedy, but had never before appeared in comedy. On this occasion, I

saw Mademoiselle SAINVAL play that ungracious part with a truth, a

grace, a nobleness, a dignity, a perfection in short, of which no

idea had yet been entertained in Paris.

Another part in which Mademoiselle CONTAT also rendered herself

famous, is that of _Madame Evrard_, in the _Vieux Célibataire_.

--_Madame Evrard_ is an imperious, cunning, and roguish housekeeper;

and this actress has no difficulty in seizing the _ton_ suitable to

such a character. This could not be done by one habituated to a more

noble manner. Mademoiselle CONTAT has not followed the impulse of

Nature, who intended her for the characters of _soubrettes_; but,

when she made her _début_, there were in that cast of parts three or

four women not deficient in merit, and it would have taken her a long

time to make her way through them.

The parts which Mademoiselle CONTAT plays at present with the

greatest success are those in the pieces of MARIVAUX, which all bear

a strong resemblance, and the nature of which she alters; for it is

also one of her defects to change always the character drawn by the

author. The reputation enjoyed by this actress is prodigious; and

such a _critique_ as the one I am now writing would raise in Paris a

general clamour. Her defects, it is true, are less prominent at this

day, when hereditary rank is annihilated; and merit, more than

manners, raises men to the highest stations. Besides, it is a

presumption inherent in the Parisians to believe that they never can

be mistaken. To reason with them on taste is useless; it is

impossible to compel them to retract when they have once said "_Cela

est charmant_."

Before I take leave of Mademoiselle CONTAT, I shall observe that

there exists in the _Théâtre Français_ a little league, of which she

is the head. Besides herself, it is composed of Mademoiselle

DEVIENNE, DAZINCOURT, and FLEURY. I am confidently assured that the

choice and reception of pieces, and the _début_ of performers depend

entirely on them. As none of them possess all the requisites for

their several casts of parts, they take care to play no other than

pieces of an equivocal kind, in which neither _bon ton_, nor _vis

comica_ is to be found. They avoid, above all, those of MOLIÈRE and

REGNARD, and are extremely fond of the comedies of MARIVAUX, in which

masters and lackies express themselves and act much alike. The unison

is then perfect, and some people call this _de l'ensemble_, as if any

could result from such a confusion of parts of an opposite nature. As

for new pieces, the members of the league must have nothing but

_papillotage_ (as the French call it), interspersed with allusions to

their own talent, which the public never fail to applaud. When an

author has inserted such compliments in his piece, he is sure of its

being received, but not always of its being successful; for when the

ground is bad, the tissue is good for nothing.

Mademoiselle MÉZERAY. She is of the school of Mademoiselle CONTAT,

whence have issued only feeble pupils. But she is very pretty, and

has the finest eyes imaginable. She plays the parts of young

coquettes, in which her principal dares no longer appear. Without

being vulgar in her manner, one cannot say that she has dignity. As

for sensibility, she expresses it still less than Mademoiselle

CONTAT. However, the absence of this sentiment is a defect which is

said to be now common among the French. Indeed, if it be true that

they are fickle, and this few will deny, the feeling they possess

cannot be lasting.

Madame TALMA. I have already spoken of her merits as a comic actress,

when I mentioned her as a tragedian.

_Parts of young Lovers._

Mesdemoiselles MARS, BOURGOIN, and GROS.

Mademoiselle MARS. She delivers in an ingenuous manner innocent

parts, and those of lovers. She has modest graces, an interesting

countenance, and appears exceedingly handsome on the stage. But she

will never be a true actress.

Mademoiselle BOURGOIN. She has some disposition for comedy, which she

neglects, and has none for tragedy, in which she is ambitious to

figure. I have already alluded to her beauty, which is that of a

pretty _grisette_.

Mademoiselle GROS. She is the pupil of DUGAZON, and made her _début_

in tragedy. The newspaper-writers transformed her into Melpomene, yet

so rapid was her decline, that presently she was scarcely more than a

waiting woman to Thalia.

Characters, _or foolish Mothers_.

Mesdemoiselles LACHAISSAIGNE and THÉNARD.

The latter of these titles explains the former. In fact, this cast of

parts consists of _characters_, that is, foolish or crabbed old

women, antiquated dowagers in love, &c. Commonly, these parts are

taken up by actresses grown too old for playing _soubrettes_; but to

perform them well, requires no trifling share of comic humour; for,

in general, they are charged with it. At the present day, this

department may be considered as vacant. Mademoiselle LACHAISSAIGNE,

who is at the head of it, is very old, and never had the requisites

for performing in it to advantage. Mademoiselle THÉNARD begins to

_double_ her in this line of acting, but in a manner neither more

sprightly nor more captivating.

_Parts of_ Soubrettes _or Chambermaids_.

Mesdemoiselles DEVIENNE and DESBROSSES.

Mademoiselle DEVIENNE. If Mademoiselle CONTAT changes the principal

characters in comedy into those of chambermaids, Mademoiselle

DEVIENNE does the contrary, and from the same motive, namely, because

she is deficient in the requisites for her cast of parts, such as

warmth, comic truth, and vivacity. Yet, while she assumes the airs of

a fine lady, she takes care to dwell on the slightest _équivoque_; so

that what would be no more than gay in the mouth of another woman, in

hers becomes indecent. As she is a mannerist in her acting, some

think it perfect, and they say too that she is charming. However, she

must have been very handsome.

Mademoiselle DESBROSSES. The public say nothing of her, and I think

this is all she can wish for.

* * * * *

I have now passed in review before you those who are charged to

display to advantage the dramatic riches bequeathed to the French

nation by CORNEILLE, RACINE, MOLIÈRE, CRÉBILLON, VOLTAIRE, REGNARD,

&c. &c. &c. If it be impossible to squander them, at least they may

at present be considered as no more than a buried treasure. Although

the _chefs d'oeuvre_ of those masters of the stage are still

frequently represented, and the public even appear to see them with

greater pleasure than new pieces, they no longer communicate that

electric fire which inflames genius, and (if I may use the

expression) renders it productive. A great man can, it is true,

create every thing himself; but there are minds which require an

impulse to be set in motion. Without a CORNEILLE, perhaps the French

nation would not have had a RACINE.

Formerly, people went to the _Théâtre Français_ in order to hear, as

it were, a continual course of eloquence, elocution, and

pronunciation. It even had the advantage over the pulpit and the bar,

where vivacity of expression was prohibited or restricted. Many a

sacred or profane orator came hither, either privately or publicly,

to study the art by which great actors, at pleasure, worked on the

feelings of the audience, and charmed their very soul. It was, above

all, at the _Théâtre Français_ that foreigners might have learned to

pronounce well the French language. The audience shuddered at the

smallest fault of pronunciation committed by a performer, and a

thousand voices instantly corrected him. At the present day, the

comedians insist that it belongs to them alone to form rules on this

point, and they now and then seem to vie with each other in despising

those already established. The audience being perhaps too indulgent,

they stand uncorrected.

Whether or not the _Théâtre Français_ will recover its former fame,

is a question which Time alone can determine. Undoubtedly, many

persons of a true taste and an experienced ear have disappeared, and

no one now seems inclined to say to the performers: "That is the

point which you must attain, and at which you must stop, if you wish

not to appear deficient, or to overact your part." But the fact is,

they are without a good model, and the spectators, in general, are

strangers to the _minutiæ/i> of dramatic excellence. In tragedy,

indeed, I am inclined to think that there never existed at the

_Théâtre Français_ such a deficiency of superior talents. When LEKAIN

rose into fame, there were not, I have been told, any male performers

who went as far as himself, though several possessed separately the

qualifications necessary for that line. However, there was

Mademoiselle DUMESNIL, a pupil of nature, from whom he might learn to

express all the passions; while from Mademoiselle CLAIRON he might

snatch all the secrets of art.

As for Comedy, it is almost in as desperate a situation. The _ton_ of

society and that of comedians may have a reciprocal influence, and

the revolution having tended to degrade the performance of the

latter, the consequences may recoil on the former. But here I must

stop.--I shall only add that it is not to the revolution that the

decline of the art, either in tragedy or comedy, is to be imputed. It

is, I understand, owing to intrigue, which has, for a long time past,

introduced pitiful performers on the stage of the _Théâtre Français_,

and to a multiplicity of other causes which it would be too tedious

to discuss, or even to mention. Notwithstanding the encomiums daily

lavished on the performers by the venal pen of newspaper writers, the

truth is well known here on this subject. Endeavours are made by the

government to repair the mischief by forming pupils; but how are they

to be formed without good masters or good models?

[Footnote 1: It must grieve every admirer of worth and talent to hear

that MOLÉ is now no more. Not long since he paid the debt of nature.

As an actor, it is more than probable that "we ne'er shall look on

his like again."]

[Footnote 2: The word _Grim_, in French theatrical language, is

probably derived from _grimace_, and the expression of _Rôles à

manteau_ arises from the personages which they represent being old

men, who generally appear on the stage with a cloak.]