It was from this period that every worthy man gave himself up to hatred of all ideas which did not date back a half-century, and of every author who was not at least sixty years of age--a style of writing which lasted from 1830 to 1850--the vigorous style of hatred to which Alceste refers, and which, we think, eats far more readily into the hearts of weak-minded, wicked and jealous people, than into the hearts of men of goodwill. People waited in daily expectation of a new St. Bartholomew's Eve, and poor M. Auger, who had just killed himself under such sad circumstances, was congratulated on having escaped a general massacre by means of suicide. So great was the consternation that the whole of the Classical party only produced one play--which was a failure. This was _Elisabeth d'Angleterre_, by M. Ancelot. For we do not call Casimir Delavigne's _Marino Faliero_, pompously christened a melodrama in verse, a classical production. The very choice of subject, _Marino Faliero_, and the imitation of Byron's principal scenes, formed a twofold concession to foreign genius and to modern taste. Casimir Delavigne, as we have remarked elsewhere, was born fifteen years too soon to take part whole-heartedly in the new school; his style seemed ever hampered, and incessantly vacillating between Voltaire and Byron, Chénier and Shakespeare, never succeeding in clothing his ideas in a definite manner. Still, nothing had been neglected to make _Marino Faliero_ a success. The papers had made much of the ingratitude of the members of the Comédie-Française and of the transfer of M. Ligier to the Porte-Saint-Martin. It was announced that the music of the overture was by Rossini, and the costumes by M. Delaroche. Now M. Delaroche was the exact analogy in painting of what Casimir Delavigne was in literature; both at that time enjoyed far too great a reputation to last, and were destined to see it pale and decrease and almost expire during their life-time. However, Rossini had composed the music, and Delaroche had designed the costumes. The play was produced on 30 May, and was very successful; but, strange to relate, the author's most elaborately conceived rôle was not the most applauded one, nor did the actor's chief success fall to the share of Ligier or of Madame Dorval: it fell to Gobert, who played the rôle of Israël Bertuccio. The work was mounted with great sumptuousness and scrupulous care, especially with regard to the costumes. M. Delaroche, having deemed it desirable, in order to lend a more picturesque effect to his designs, that they should be wafted by the wind, the theatrical costumier devised the ingenious notion of sewing air into the mantles. I have elsewhere given my opinion of this play. CHAPTER III