The name of Fanny Lear may sound familiar to some readers because it was given to an American adventuress in Russia by a grand-ducal admirer. After _Fanny Lear_ came _Froufrou_, the lineal successor of _The Stranger_ as the current masterpiece of the lachrymatory drama. Nothing so tear-compelling as the final act of _Froufrou_ had been seen on the stage for half a century or more. The death of Froufrou was a watery sight, and for any chance to weep we are many of us grateful. And yet it was a German, born in the land of Charlotte and Werther,--it was Heine who remarked on the oddity of praising the "dramatic poet who possesses the art of drawing tears--a talent which he has in common with the meanest onion." It is noteworthy that it was by way of Germany that English tragedy exerted its singular influence on French comedy. Attracted by the homely power of pieces like _The Gamester_ and _Jane Shore_, Diderot in France and Lessing in Germany attempted the _tragedie bourgeoise_, but the right of the "tradesmen's tragedies"--as Goldsmith called them--to exist at all was questioned until Kotzebue's pathetic power and theatrical skill captured nearly every stage in Europe. In France the bastard offspring of English tragedy and German drama gave birth to an equally illegitimate _comedie larmoyante_. And so it happens that while comedy in English literature, resulting from the clash of character, is always on the brink of farce, comedy in French literature may be tinged with passion until it almost turns to tragedy. In France the word "comedy" is elastic and covers a multitude of sins: it includes the laughing _Boule_ and the tearful _Froufrou_: in fact, the French Melpomene is a sort of _Jeanne qui pleure et Jeanne qui rit_.