The final scene, in which Robespierre is brought under accusation by the Convention, was vastly inferior to the same thing in "Thermidor"; and, what was worse, instead of paraphrasing or translating the speeches of Billaud-Varennes, Tallien, and Robespierre, which he might have found in the "Moniteur," Sardou, or rather Irving, makes the leading characters yell harangues very much of the sort which would be made in a meeting of drunken dock laborers to-day. Irving's part in this was not at all well done. The unhistorical details now came thick and fast, among them his putting his head down on the table of the tribune as a sign of exhaustion, and then, at the close, shooting himself in front of the tribunal. If he did shoot himself, which is doubtful, it was neither at that time nor in that place. But, worst of all, the character of Robespierre was made far too melodramatic, and was utterly unworthy of Irving, whom, in all his other pieces, I have vastly admired. He completely misconceives his hero. Instead of representing him as, from first to last, a shallow Rousseau sentimentalist, with the proper mixture of vanity, suspicion, and cruelty, he puts into him a great deal too much of the ruffian, which was not at all in Robespierre's character. The most striking scene in the whole was the roll-call at the prison. This was perhaps better than that in Sardou's "Thermidor," and the tableaux were decidedly better. The scene at the "Festival of the Supreme Being" was also very striking, and in many respects historical; but, unless I am greatly mistaken, the performance referred to did not take place as represented, but in the garden directly in front of the Tuileries. The family scene at the house of Duplay the carpenter was exceedingly well managed; old Duplay, smoking his pipe, listening to his daughters playing on a spinet and singing sentimental songs of the Rousseau period, was perfect. The old carpenter and his family evidently felt that the golden age had at last arrived; that humanity was at the end of its troubles; and that the world was indebted for it all to their lodger Robespierre, who sat in the midst of them reading, writing, and enjoying the coddling and applause lavished upon him. And he and they were to go to the guillotine within a week! Incidentally there came a little touch worthy of Sardou; for, as Robespierre reads his letters, he finds one from his brother, in which he speaks of a young soldier and revolutionist of ability whose acquaintance he has just made, whom he very much likes, and whose republicanism he thoroughly indorses--one Buonaparte. This might have occurred, and very likely did occur, very much as shown on the stage; for one of the charges which nearly cost Bonaparte his life on the Ninth Thermidor was that he was on friendly terms with the younger Robespierre, who was executed with his more famous brother.