Madame Modjeska was beautiful as _Ophelia_. No _tragédienne_ that I have ever seen weeps more naturally. In all sad situations she makes the chords of one's heart vibrate, and that without any trick or artifice, but simply by the modulations of her singularly sympathetic voice and such like natural means. It is very seldom that you can see in America, outside of New York, more than one very good actor or actress playing together. So you may imagine the success of such a combination as Booth-Modjeska. Every night the theater is packed from floor to ceiling, although the prices of admission are doubled. [Illustration] CHAPTER XVIII. ST. JOHNSBURY--THE STATE OF MAINE--NEW ENGLAND SELF-CONTROL--COLD CLIMATES AND FRIGID AUDIENCES--WHERE IS THE AUDIENCE?--ALL DRUNK!--A REMINISCENCE OF A SCOTCH AUDIENCE ON A SATURDAY NIGHT. _St. Johnsbury (Vt.), January 28._ ST. Johnsbury is a charming little town perched on the top of a mountain, from which a lovely scene of hills and woods can be enjoyed. The whole country is covered with snow, and as I looked at it in the evening by the electric light, the effect was very beautiful. The town has only six thousand inhabitants, eleven hundred of whom came to hear my lecture to-night. Which is the European town of six thousand inhabitants that would supply an audience of eleven hundred people to a literary _causerie_? St. Johnsbury has a dozen churches, a public library of 15,000 volumes, with a reading-room beautifully fitted with desks and perfectly adapted for study. A museum, a Young Men's Christian Association, with gymnasium, school-rooms, reading-rooms, play-rooms, and a lecture hall capable of accommodating over 1000 people. Who, after that, would consider himself an exile if he had to live in St. Johnsbury? There is more intellectual life in it than in any French town outside of Paris and about a dozen more large cities. * * * * * _Portsea, January 30._ I have been in the State of Maine for two days; a strange State to be in, let me tell you. After addressing the Connecticut audience in Meriden a few days ago, I thought I had had the experience of the most frigid audience that could possibly be gathered together. Last Tuesday night, at Portsea, I was undeceived. Half-way between St. Johnsbury and Portsea, the day before yesterday, I was told that the train would be very late, and would not arrive at Portsea before half-past eight. My lecture in that city was to begin at eight. The only thing to do was to send a telegram to the manager of the lecture. At the next station I sent the following: "Train late. If possible, keep audience waiting half an hour. Will dress on board."