ineffable charlatanism. Poor M. Claretie has much ado to keep him in order. What would happen if he had a stage of his own to rant and roar upon? A lesser Sarah Bernhardt, without her inexpressible charm and her undoubted genius, which in soft interludes help us to bear with the shrieking, hysteric, high moments. It would be a mistake to regard the Français as a kind of happy family, living in perfect amity and peace. The roar of domestic war sometimes penetrates without, and all Paris was excited lately by M. Le Bargy’s noisy menace of resignation. Le Bargy, on his own boards, in his own atmosphere, surrounded by his own company, has made his mark as a well-cravatted, fashionable young lover; but what will Le Bargy do elsewhere, in a theatre where, with his prestige, and coming from such a house, he will be expected to fill the stage? I doubt if there is the stuff of the star in him, and upon the Boulevards there are many actors as good as and better even than he. This is the triumph of the Français,—that by means of inexorable tradition and training, without individuality or genius, actors acting harmoniously, guided by a common standard, may attain an eminence in their profession achieved in no other land. And though the chances of fortune and popularity are much greater outside its walls, popular actors are always proud of the honour of election into its illustrious company. The theatre was founded by Louis XIV., by whom it was made a co-operative association, and who established pensions for retiring members. It has two classes of actors: _sociétaires_, who have each an interest in the theatre, have a voice in its government, a share of the profits, assist at the choice of plays, and retire with a pension. On retirement, they possess not only their pension, but a little capital of their own, the half of their share of the profits of the theatre having been annually invested for them. The second class is composed of _pensionnaires_, engaged yearly at a fixed salary, and at the end of a certain period of probation nominated _sociétaires_. Napoleon chose the most astonishing hour of his astonishing career for consideration of the destiny of the Théâtre Français. At Moscow he diverted his mind from colossal disaster by framing the celebrated Decree of Moscow. The theatre is a State institution, subsidised by an annual vote of 240,000 francs, in return for which it is bound to play the old classical repertory twice or thrice a week. By this means the memory of the masters of the French drama, Racine, Corneille, and Molière, is kept ever green in France, and is not less fresh to-day than that of the modern dramatists.